~*Author's Notes*~
I seem to have made, or am going to make, a continuity mistake.
I'm currently "in like" with semicolons; I plan to use and abuse at random.
This whole chapter takes place in 3 min.
~*~ Chapter 51 ~*~
The very air around the Banshee Queen stalled and fell still. "You come bearing gifts?" The Banshee Queen liked gifts; there didn't really need to be an occasion. Kayas could only imagine what a thing like the Dark Lady liked to receive from her adoring followers, let alone what a Scarlet Crusader would bring.
"I didn't – um – ma'am. One of your soldiers found her." Salira didn't want the undead Queen's favors, let alone to have the woman thinking she wanted to do that things for her.
One of the red and black clad soldiers came forward leading a young woman by the arm. The stoic, lose haired and dark eyed novice priestess was emotionless, barefoot and freezing in the rain and wind. A soaking white robe hugged a strait figure, cut in a V down the front and showed off her standing as a novice priest of the dark arts. Those more advanced training came with smaller and smaller robes to show off their status as "untouchable". The hard filigree necklace stood out against softer flesh. The lines of her face, too many for one who hadn't seen her thirtieth year, had come from love and laughter in days long gone. Now they only gave the rain channels to run threw.
She faced the Dark Lady head on, all of her fearlessness shining in defiant brown eyes. As the tall elf drew closer the undead man let go and stepped back. It was the priestess and his Queen now.
"Did you run out of magic or did you hope to get captured so they would bring you to me?" Every eye rested on the woman and her answers. It was not out of the Lich King's strategies to have one of his minions get captured and then kill or maim their captors with some hidden method. Mages called it combustion where they were able to turn other people into living bombs, but anyone could do it provided they had the right magical knowledge.
"I yielded." The priestess' voice was hard edged, not unlike a heavy smoker. "You can kill me, or give me to him-" she indicated the commander "-or let me go. My life has not been my own for many years; I accept that. I only pray the Light forgive me my sins before I am done."
The Dark Lady studied her quarry a moment, "Were you not amongst the clerics who helped shatter the defenses of this place?"
"Yes." The priestess swallowed hard, "I was to destroy the orphanage."
"Are you always this reliable?" The children behind the queen pressed closer to see the woman who would have been their undoing.
The priestess ignored the jab. "I faltered. He found me hiding in my room." Her voice was dry, as if reciting boring poetry. The foot soldier's hand waved as if to say it was me, not unlike a puppy wagging it's tail.
Commander Hillburn had heard enough, "I'll have your head, traitor!" How or from where a two-handed battle-axe appeared was irrelevant as it went spinning threw the air at the priestess. When she did nothing to protect herself the Banshee Queen's own clerics created the shield. Said clerics stashed themselves throughout this section of the compound. Just in case.
The undead Queen's illuminated glare landed on the commander, "You'll kill her before she even has a chance to answer my questions!" If she were going to kill a bunch of Orphans the Druid didn't see much problem with letting the commander take her head. Children should not pay for the actions of adults. If only other races embraced this truth.
The priestess' gazed matched the Dark Lady, glaring at the commander with contempt, "He very much likes asking questions, but never the right ones and always to the wrong people."
The commander stood stock still for a moment, shocked that one of his underlings would dare to address him in such a way, "You'll shut your traitor mouth or I'll-"
"What? Torture me? Kill me? Sell me to the Lich King? What are you going to do to me that hasn't already be done, and by those far more skilled at it than you?"
Her accusations floored the commander, "You sold yourself to the-" He took another step towards her but veered off to retrieve his fallen ax. When the rotting foot soldiers did nothing to stop him his brow drew together in deeper mistrust.
"Shut up!" When angry the white-clad woman sounded very much like a child, "This is your fault! All of this is your fault. Every time someone tried to tell you what was going on you sent them to the Field to be stripped of flesh and soul." Bare feet made small cups in the mud as she took several steps forward, hands raising slowly as if to draw sigils of power. She stopped when the elf exhaled softly in warning, hands returning to her side. "This is your fault. You're and the Archbishop."
"The Arch Bishop is dead," Salira interjected. The red helmet of her class hung from her hip again, graying hair plastered to her features in the rain. "We know he turned you against us." They all flinched as the sound of crumbling stone was met with another rally cry from the Scourge. The scout shifted, checking his bowstrings and scope for the tenth time and casting wary glances at the warlock. Commander Hillburn cast him a dower look but said nothing. His kind did not like elves, especially given the race of undead leading standing between he and Loarderon Castle.
"You think we did this willingly?" The priestess laughed at once to hear the good news. "You're bigger fools that I though. Light have mercy on us all."
Raising one white eyebrow the Dark Lady looked at the commander inquiringly. In her mind the Druid could almost see the puzzle pieces falling into place, explaining so many things that had no obvious connection, "It would explain the turnover rate you've had with priests these last few months. So many of yours have died and been replaced, and yet my people haven't mentioned there being any battles."
The commander reddened, "The Arch Bishop said-"
Now the shadow novice was furious, hands glowing slightly with the magic of her craft, "Did you never stop to think why so many of the people he brought forth as "traitors" were priests? Why they all said the same thing? You spared his soul the mark of darkness by doing the murdering for him."
Hillburn was furious and about to offer his scathing opinion as to the cleanliness of his soul when he noticed... everyone was looking at him. Everyone. It may take a moment for someone who is truly wrong on a fundamental level to accept their wrongness, but often it takes everyone telling them they are wrong at once for them to accept it. This was one of those times. The reality of her words washed over him at a sickening rate, the puzzles many pieces finally clicking in his own mind. A moment latter his face dropped, stricken, the words coming out in a low wail, "I didn't know! He said they were conspiring. How was I to know?!"
The priestess shook her head, "I want to hate you, but you're just one of millions who have fallen short of perfection in this world. What was it Fordrin said? Ah yes, 'You cannot explain rational to a zealot' or something like that." The dark glow around her hands dimmed and winked out.
Kayas coughed into one of her paws which earned a giggle from several of the children nearby, both living and dead. The Dark Lady smirked. At seeing this the commander let go of his self-loathing and turned on the priestess again, "And yet you did nothing while you saw all of this happening?"
The incredulity of his words washed all forgiveness from the priestess as well. Her hands glowed again,though she did not raise them to strike. "Do you remember Father Dolamain?"
"Yes, he was hung…." When he didn't finish his sentence the Dark Lady prodded him to complete the story. "He was hung outside the walls and fed to the Scourge. When he rose as undead the Arch Bishop stripped his soul out and burned it into dust."
"And you say I'm sadistic?" The undead Queen laughed, glanced over her shoulder at something and raised an eyebrow. Some unspoken message was sent and received. She turned back to the priestess.
"Worse," the priestess said to the Dark Lady, "He made us watch. Father Dolamain was the first to find out about the Arch Bishops corruption. When he threatened to tell the commander, the Arch Bishop had him taken outside, silenced him with spells and made all of the initiates watch while the Scourge did their work. Latter, the Arch Bishop revealed his plans to the priesthood and asked who amongst us would wished to be spared the training by being the next to feed the scourge. Commander Hillburn wasn't present for that part, of course. Since then dozens have tried to stop him, only to be put to death in the Field or on the wall. I'm not arrogant enough to assume I would be any different. Just another mark on someone's already dirty soul."
"That's enough." The Banshee Queen glanced anxiously at the gate and crumbling wall. "Surely you didn't allow yourself to be taken just to tell Commander Hillburn what a wonderful job he's doing."
"No, I came to ask that you spare me in exchange for information. You work like that, right?"
The obserdity of out-and-out being captured just to reveal information caused the Druid and scout to snort together. Serz spared them a glance before returning to his spectatorship. "What do you know that I don't already?" The Dark Lady asked, " Arthas has an army outside this gate and a few renegade priests inside. Nothing I we cannot deal with."
"Your pride may be the un-un-death of you. There is a traitor in your ranks." Mr. Meow hauled himself up from vigorous grooming to take up position beside the Dark Lady and demand pettings. There are hands and they are not being used. Pet me. Attempts to get the great beast to quit pawing at her cape and chewing on the hilt of her swords failed and only a clawed hand under the chin could bring the animal to a purring halt.
"I am aware of that as well. Next?" Serz tried to swallow but it was rather difficult with no saliva.
"I know who it is." Serz looked at his feet, fascinated by the way the pointed toe bones wiggled under the hem of his robe.
"As do I. Next?" The scout put his bow in ready position if it became necessary to silence another spell flinger from going after his father. Likely he himself had no clue what was going on, but the Druid knew he was very emotionally tied to the warlock and it never took much to get a Kaldorie to rise in defense of friend or family.
"The druid isn't doing anything that hasn't been done before; there are plenty of living who are infected with strands of the plague. Most of the necromancers who work for the Lich King are alive and infected."
"That druid and my Nekov both carry the plague and are not bound to Arthas by it. That has never been done before. Next?" Commander Hillburn's gaze ended on Nekov, the gears o f his own mind turning with old and new information. Nekov returned that gaze and held the scythe as if it would be nothing to take his former leaders head from his shoulders.
The priestess swallowed for a moment, feeling the jaws of despair closing in on her finally. She had accepted death, but no one actually wants it if there are options. "The trees in Quel'thalas are-"
"I'm aware. Next?"
I'm a druid and I plan maaagical seeds… the Druid though, watching the stone walls continue to splinter and crumble. Watching Mr. Meows getting doted on by the fierce Banshee Queen made her at once jealous, dejected and homesick. Druids did not purr – most large cats didn't – but she had learned to do it and assumed that Mr. Meows had too. For whom had he learned?
"Grown ups talk too much. I think they run their mouths because they can't stand the tension of just sitting still and listening." Michael was seated on the edge of the relic stall watching the exchange. Only Nekov and the Razor Wing could hear him.
"No, they are not just magical seeds!" The priestess stopped, closed her mouth for a moment and then continued, "The necromancers are fighting your foot soldiers, even your mages, with more skill than you give them credit for. They were going to quarantine everyone in here and then let the gate up after sealing off the rest of the hold. It was to be a feeding frenzy for the Scourge. Seems you havn't disappointed them."
"Necromancers?"
Wait… did she just read my thoughts? Blink once if you can hear me.
"That's the part that gets you attention?" The priestess rubbed the bridge of her nose and blinked slowly. When she brought her hand down the Banshee Queen crossed her arms.
"Necromancers can control the dead. I didn't see any necromancers out there."
"They aren't out there, your majesty," The foot soldier answered for her, "The priests, most of them are trained in the necromantic arts. A good two-thirds of them ingested the plague that would bind them to the Lich King when this started. We didn't know that going in and they slaughtered most of us. The few here are survivors; I doubt there are many left."
The Banshee Queen was silent for a moment, going into her own mind, checking her resources and trying to see what was to be done about this new information. "And you said the priests had planned to move everyone into this section of the compound and then open the gate?"
What is the purpose in being able to read people's thoughts? I know something about necromancers; they are able to hide in plain sight because the shadow energy they wield is too powerful for them to wield at all times, unless they are freakishly powerful lichs, and they are able to pass it into an object. Destroy the object and you break that person of ever being able to control the dead.The white-clad priestess nodded solemnly, "That was His plan all along, and even though almost none of it went according to plan, we all wound up here anyway. The gate He was going to open was in the Field of Agony, in order to turn all of those people into His minions before He got to us. Now as an added bonus He gets you as well."
