Chapter Thirty-Eight: Frostmourne
Lord Kazzak approached the threshold of Lord Archimonde's chambers. There his Doomguards stood guard. They saluted as Kazzak approached.
"Hail, brother." said Kazzak. "Is he well?"
"Lord Archimonde is beginning to recover." said the doomguard. "Or so the succubi tell us. However, it will be some time before he awakens."
"Then we will stand our vigil over him." said Kazzak.
"But what of the Alliance?" asked the guard. "They are pressing in on our borders. And our new troops have failed."
"Take heart brother." said Kazzak. "They will be accounted for in due time.
Suddenly flashes came before Kazzak. He saw visions. Visions of blue-clad humans driving in the defenses. Of warriors with bright swords cutting down all who barred their path. Allies came from all around, assisting them in driving in.
Little by little the last defense was beaten down. Kazzak made a final stand. He and his brethren left hundreds of bodies hacked and slain around him. Yet in the end, he too was overrun.
And a King of Stormwind stood over Archimonde's prone form.
His sword flashed and the Legion died.
Kazzak looked, seeking a way of escape. He saw only one. A weapon sought by many. And Kazzak knew, in that moment, what he must do.
"What is it, Kazzak?" asked the doomguard.
"...I see the sacrifice that must be made." said Kazzak.
And he turned to stride away,
The colony had been reestablished. All the ground that had been lost in the retreat from Northrend was regained. Now and again they skirmished with the red orcs, killing them easily. Finally, Gul'dan drew all his forces back to Drak'theron Keep.
After that the worst battle Varian faced was paperwork. So much so that meetings with the command was the highlight of his day. Such as this one.
"I just received news from Faldine and Marwynn." said Varian. "They and Tyrygosa have successfully brought the Tuskarr into the fold. Muradin, how is Baelgun's quest going?"
"Well lad, he's found some ancient tunnels called Azjol Nerub." said Muradin. "It seems they used to be the site of an ancient empire, ruled by the Nerubians. Not really sure what drove em out, but we've found a lot of crypt fiends beneath the earth.
"And there is no telling how far those tunnels stretch. They could come out anywhere and the passages are well hidden."
"Tell Baelgun I want him to get in contact with the Nerubians." said Varian. "See if he can make an alliance with them. They probably know those tunnels better than anyone. If we can help them in their war, we'll be one step closer to conquering Northrend."
"Well I wouldn't get too ahead of yourself, lad." laughed Muradin. "We've got plenty on our plate with Archimonde." The dwarf peered at Varian. "Is something wrong?"
He hadn't spoken with Tiffin in quite some time. Days. Or had it been weeks? Every day was the same in this blasted placed. Then he remembered the letter. "...I just received a letter, Muradin. From Arthas. The Legion has stolen a powerful magical artifact called the Eye of Sageras. They are hoping to heal Archimonde with it."
"Damn. That's bad news if ever there was any." said Muradin. He paused and seemed to be mulling something over.
"What are you thinking?" asked Varian.
Muradin leaned back in his seat. "...Well lad, the way I see it the Legion is about to become a lot stronger. But we might be strong enough to take em. If we could launch an attack now, we could kill old Archy before he can be healed."
"It might work. But we don't know where he is." admitted Varian. "Although Gul'dan might. He was part of the operation that seized the Eye. So he might have been there when it was delivered.
"Still, my scouts report that Gul'dan has been heavily reinforced by Fel Orcs. And our alliance isn't ready yet."
"There might be a chance, Lad." said Muradin thoughtfully.
"What is it?" asked Varian.
"Well lad, back when me and Arthas were out here, we took some time to search for a Runeblade called Frostmourne." said Muradin. "With Arthas' help, we were able to pick up the trail.
"But we had to pack up and leave before we could finish the search."
Varian found himself interested. Runeblades were largely a subject of legend. No one had found one in years. Their manufacture was a lost art. "This runeblade, is it powerful?"
"Immensely." said Muradin. "Legends say that it was cooled in a fountain that was the source of all magic in Azeroth."
"Then it may be worth looking into. Will it take us out of our way?" asked Varian.
"Not at all." said Muradin "At least I don't think it will. There's a waygate that should lead us straight to the vault. My boys secured it yesterday."
Varian remained silent. There was little enough to do. So looking into it couldn't hurt. "Alright, we'll look into this. If it's as powerful as you say it might be enough for a swift victory."
"That's exactly what I was thinking, lad." said Muradin. "Still, we ought to keep a clear head about all this. Not everything you find in Northrend is what it appears."
At that moment the door opened. Marwynn and Zul'amon entered, shedding heavy winter clothing as they did. Varian stood and turned away from the hearth to face them. "Captain Marwynn, Zul'amon, you've returned."
"Bad things be happening in dese lands tonight, King Varian." said Zul'amon. "I had me boys watching Drak'theron Keep like you ordered. A huge host of Fel Orcs be coming down through the mountains and enter the gates. But not one of em be appearing on the walls.
"Then we hears dere screaming. Lots and lots of screaming. We be feeling the influence of fel magic. And out of da gates come undead. Lots of undead dat weren't dere before."
"What?" Varian shuddered. "He wouldn't... Gul'dan was an orc!"
"There's no proof of that." said Muradin quickly. "How could he have created all those undead in a day? It takes a long time to do it.
"Remember, lad, there are tunnels here. Gul'dan might have had troops moved in through other tunnels."
Varian almost hoped that was the case. The fel orcs they were fighting were children. Babes even, twisted. He didn't want to even think about that. "Yes, you're... you're right Muradin. There is no sense in... assuming things. Marwynn..."
"Yes milord?" said Marwynn.
"Muradin and I have an errand to attend to." said Varian. "I'll leave you in charge until we return."
Gul'dan had to be defeated and quickly. Before he completed whatever trap he had planned.
Gul'dan was doing the paperwork. If there was one thing he missed about the Old Horde, it was that everyone was horribly disorganized. The chieftains were too busy blustering to actually think about running things. So he had been free to do it all himself, and he hadn't been accountable to anyone.
Under Kel'thuzad, however, things were different.
Kel'thuzad ran a tight ship. If you wanted a shipment of corpses you had to explain why you needed it. You had to send weekly reports. It irritated Gul'dan to no end, and he just knew he'd have another kind of accounting to do soon.
And then Kirrasan appeared. He sighed and looked up from his desk. "Lady Kirrasan, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Well I'd tell you, but something concerns me, Gul'dan." said Kirrasan.
"What is it?" asked Gul'dan.
"You see, Mannoroth dispatched to you several battalions of Fel Orcs." said Kirrasan. "The whole idea was to shore up your weakened undead forces. Now, I can't help but notice that there are a great many undead here. Many more than our records indicate.
"And there are no Fel Orcs."
"Well obviously I had them destroyed." said Gul'dan. "Their programming isn't nearly good enough for my purposes. So all they are good for is as bodies to throw at the enemy. Transforming them all into ghouls and abominations is much more efficient."
Kirrasan actually flinched. "...You killed them all?"
"Yes. Why wouldn't I?" asked Gul'dan. "The first generation of our Fel Orc broods are completely worthless. They're just failed prototypes."
"You are a very sick person, Gul'dan." said Kirrasan.
Gul'dan scoffed. "Please. I am not sick. There is no disease of the mind that can make one do the things I do. I choose to become what I am. I made myself. Not an illness. Not a series of traumatic events.
"I am who I am."
Kirrasan smiled thinly. "Duly noted. Allow me to correct myself. You are utterly repulsive. Now, I assume everything has been planned out."
"Yes. Everything is." said Gul'dan. "Observe." He raised a staff and an image appeared.
King Varian Wrynn and the dwarf, Muradin, walked into a hidden vault. They have journeyed swift and sure, unopposed. And at last come to it.
Within was only one thing.
A sword. Beautiful and terrible at once, decorated with the symbol of a horned skull. It whispered and radiated power as they entered.
"So this is the blade of which you spoke." said Varian. "It is somewhat morbid, isn't it?"
"Powerful though. Just looking at it gives me chills." said Muradin, moving forward. Then he stopped. "Hold lad, there's an inscription on the dais. It read... whosoever... ah, blast it! Someone's scraped it off!"
"Well, whatever it is, we should be able to make good use of it." said Varian.
He reached forward, but his hand was stopped. Transparent ice had barred his path. Drawing his swords, Varian slashed at it. There was a ring, and both blades were thrown from his hand. Varian held his hand and stared. The ice was unhurt.
Yet there was a low whisper. Beckoning.
"Now how do we get it out?" said Varian.
He and Muradin began to try again.
Kirrasan glared at Gul'dan. "You rubbed out the warning?"
"Why not?" asked Gul'dan. "Is there some rule that we have to leave cryptic messages hinting at our plans?"
"No, the warning served a very important purpose." said Kirrasan.
"Which is?" asked Gul'dan.
"The theory is complex." said Kirrasan. "When you make a magical contract a lot of it depends on what you know. If you do something that would give you an obligation without knowing anything, the spell is a lot weaker. The warning is supposed to give the one who takes the sword a clear idea of what they are getting into.
"Then they ignore it and fall into the sword's grip."
Gul'dan scoffed. "That might have worked for Prince Arthas. But Varian has no personal stake in any of this, or pressing need. If he finds an ominous warning he's just going to leave it in place."
"I know. It's just... unsporting is all." said Kirrasan.
"I don't care for sport. I care for victory." said Gul'dan.
"I noticed." said Kirrasan.
About this time, Muradin and Varian had broken every tool they'd used to try and break the ice. They didn't dare use their weapons, so they simply stood there in the snow.
"Well this is a fix." said Muradin. "We've found the vault, no mistake. The sword is here, plain as day, unguarded. And now we can't get the bloody thing out.
"What do we do now?"
"The information you found, did it say anything about this?" asked Varian.
"Well... ah... there was something about a contract." said Muradin. "I thought the text was being poetic, but maybe not."
"Contract?" asked Varian.
"Yes, lad. Runeblades can't be wielded by just anyone." said Muradin. "They bond to a particular person, almost becoming an extension of them. Or so some of the legends say."
Varian paused. "So what's the catch?"
"Well, the catch, lad, is that person who picks up a Runeblade gets... fixed on things." said Muradin. "You agree to become the Runeblade's wielder, and in return, it grants you the power to achieve your goals. The trouble is, sometimes your goals change. Or you haven't really thought them through.
"And, the way you take up the sword matters a lot."
"What do you mean 'the way you take up the sword.'" asked Varian.
"Well there has to be a sacrifice to take up a Runeblade." said Muradin. "So let's say you take up the sword because you want revenge on an evil man who wronged you. That's probably why Arthas was looking for it. So you take up the sword, and you get your revenge. But then you become... set.
"You become set on hurting people who wronged you. Now that's where the means you use to get it come in. Because, once you take up a runeblade, you are always the person you were when you took it up. Let's say you sacrificed your right hand for your revenge. Once you take up the Runeblade you'll be willing to hurt yourself to hurt your enemies.
"On the other hand, if you took it up while sacrificing a friend... well..."
"What?" said Varian.
"It would mean you would embrace a policy of bloodstained revenge. Regardless of the cost to others." said Muradin. "Or so I think. The whole thing is theoretical, lad. I'm working off legends. I thought it was all poetry and it might still be poetry."
"Why were you even looking for this?" asked Varian.
"I was hoping to put it in a museum." admitted Muradin. "I didn't have any plans of using the bloody thing. And when Arthas was looking for it, we were desperate."
"So, we can't move it." said Varian. "And we can't afford to let the Legion get its hands on it."
"I wouldn't worry about that, lad." said Muradin.
"What do you mean?" asked Varian.
Muradin sighed. "First off, it's no sure thing the Legion even knows where this place is. And we control the waygate. Secondly, well... I don't think anyone in the Legion is the sacrificing type, if you know what I mean.
"Come on lad. Let's get the hell out of here."
And that was how Varian rejected Frostmourne. Kirrasan sighed. "Well, there goes plan B. Any ideas?"
"I'll figure something out with Kazzak." said Gul'dan.
Gul'dan had figured it all out ahead of time. He didn't believe for an instant that Varian would be so quick to take up the sword. When Arthas had come to the point where he might have taken it, his world had been turned upside down. Varian, however, had not actually lost much.
It wasn't his kingdom that had been devastated. And he'd had plenty of time to adapt. The only thing which would drive him to take the sword was sheer pride or desperation. But the Legion was losing the war.
All this worked out in his favor, of course.
That was why Gul'dan had teleported here with Kazzak. As they made their way into the vault, Kazzak stirred in irritation. "May I ask what we are doing out here, Gul'dan?"
"Undermining my worthless teacher." said Gul'dan.
"Is that not undermining the Legion?" asked Kazzak.
"Don't be foolish. Ner'zhul is playing his own game." said Gul'dan. "And he is in a position of strength. His armies are easily restored, while ours will die in droves to defend him."
"The cure for Archimonde is working." noted Kazzak thoughtfully.
"But it will take months, perhaps years for him to recover." said Gul'dan. "No, we must ensure that he has an army loyal to him when he wakes up. Besides, Kirrasan's chosen wielder has failed his test. He's abandoned the quest.
"As I suspected he would. He lacks the ambition and drive to achieve true power. Like most humans, he is held back by his conscience."
"But why should you want it?" asked Kazzak. "You don't strike me as a warrior sort. And why should the Lich King give it to you?"
Gul'dan examined the sword, admiring the spellwork on it. Whoever had made it must have been a genius at the craft. Yet the working were different. He looked to Kazzak. "Frostmourne obeys the will of the Lich King. But it is also an entity unto itself. Thus it is possible for one to make a contract with it, without his consent. Yet he is bound to the sword in his own way. To usurp it from him is to steal a large part of his power.
"And gain the means to overthrow him."
"Yes." said Kazzak. "But it's a sword. You're a caster."
"It is also a powerful focus. I can use it for that purpose." said Gul'dan. "And the power to steal Ner'zhul's power will be reason enough." Once he did this, he would have the means to take Ner'zhul's power. From there it would be a simple matter to take the Eye of Sageras for himself.
If Kazzak had to be removed? So be it.
Gul'dan raised his staff. "Now, spirits of this place! I seek an audience!
"I will gladly submit any sacrifice in exchange for your power! Grant me it, and the blood of thousands shall wet the blade."
Nothing happened.
There were no whispers. No discussion. Gul'dan felt the spirits of Frostmourne note his presence and then ignore it. Kazzak smiled. "...Is there a problem, Gul'dan?"
"One moment." said Gul'dan.
He tried all manner of incantations. He wielded his power to try and force the spirits to acknowledge him. He sent forth promises of entire civilizations laid to waste, of millions of souls to devour. But it held no appeal.
Finally, he threw his staff to the ground in disgust. "I don't understand. The spirits listened keenly to that human and the dwarf. They were waiting for them to make an offer! Why do they ignore me?"
Kazzak chuckled, and Gul'dan suddenly became afraid. "Does a merchant offer to buy when he has no money? Does the business make a contract when he has nothing to offer?"
"What?" said Gul'dan.
"I should think it obvious by now, Gul'dan." said Kazzak. "Your pride is simply too great to see it. To use Frostmourne you must sacrifice something you truly value. But you value nothing save yourself. Not the flesh on your body, not the warriors who serve you, not even those whose company you enjoy.
"Perhaps you thought that the rapport you and I shared upon our quest counted for something. It did on my part. But the fact that you were willing to bring me out indicates premeditation on sacrificing me.
"If something is easy, it is not a sacrifice.
"You believe that because there is nothing you will not do that you are strong. You delude yourself that your lack of moral character is the absence of chains. But now you begin to realize the truth, don't you?"
In retrospect Kazzak was far more cunning than he had let on. "Kazzak, you're wrong. I have only the Legion's interests at heart..."
"Did you think me blind to your intentions Gul'dan?" asked Kazzak, smiling as he walked forward. "I have been in the Legion since long before you were born. I know the ways of your kind. And I see those with your weakness every day among the Dreadlords.
"You have no pride. You have no principles. You have no loyalty. Nothing can be gained without sacrifice, and you are nothing.
"But I am not." Then he reached out to the sword. "FROSTMOURNE! BLADE OF ICE AND DEATH! GIVE ME THE POWER TO FULFILL THE WILL OF SAGERAS AND I WILL GLADLY SACRIFICE ALL THAT I AM!"
The whispers came back in full force. Frostmourne shuddered within its prison. The ice cracked and the sword emerged. There was a flash and Kazzak caught the blade as it fell. It grew in size within his hand, until it was the same as his old weapon. His eyes glowed with a green flame, and he looked at Gul'dan with a smile.
Gul'dan prostrated himself at on. "Lord Kazzak! Forgive me! I am your servant!"
Kazzak laughed and there was an unholy echo. "You need not fear. I do not kill those who outlive their usefulness. Nor do I destroy without reason. By my blood, shall the will of Sageras at long last be fulfilled."
The whispers of Frostmourne were joyful.
Author's Note:
Okay, for those of you who didn't get it, Frostmourne operates sort of like the one ring. The way in which you take it up is almost as important as whether you take it up at all. Arthas in canon took it up while killing a friend and abandoning his men. So he became a monster who was dead set on avenging every minor slight. Arthas in the Mercyverse did it because he saw no other option. So he became a noble demon who focused on achieving his objectives while preserving life.
Frostmourne offers power to achieve a goal. In exchange, it demands a sacrifice and then refocuses the person's whole existence on that goal. Canon Arthas sacrificed Muradin. Mercyverse Arthas' sacrifice was himself.
Since all Gul'dan cares about power for its own sake, he had no goal for Frostmourne to help him with. And he had nothing to sacrifice. So Frostmourne wouldn't give him the time of day.