AN: The Bronze Dragonflight is Canon. The Infinite Dragonflight is us.
We have no idea what we're doing, but let's see where we head anyway.
I had no idea how long it was since my talk with my Partner. Mainly because the sun wouldn't appear through the clouds.
All I knew was it felt like an eternity passed, watching my undead put the Harborfront back together as best as they could. The Plaza and Harborfront were the two major areas that had damage, a few buildings between them were damaged or destroyed, but nothing to the same degree of those areas. And of the two, the Harborfront was in a much worse state, given it was ground zero for the Kvaldir invasion.
It was in a sense, a far lesser version of Leviathan's aftermath on Brockton Bay, with a lot less water, and far less destruction. The undead worked to clear the debris while, what I tentatively called, the 'workers' attempted to fix what was broken with the pieces of what couldn't be repaired. If I had any access to extra wood or stone, I probably could have had them go and fix everything, but as it was it was I had to make due. Then hope they could repair most of the buildings.
Flanked by Heinreich and Thessa, I had initially gone about the town looking over everything, just to ensure everything was in good condition and to get a lay of the land. The forge was operational and running, surprisingly, with several of the Onslaught workers going straight back into their work, hammering metal into whatever it was they were making. The… stables… aviary...? It was some place with animals in it, now all dead and raised, and it wasn't a stable just because of the large cage surrounding everything.
With the cursory trip done, I was led back to the Cathedral by Thessa when I questioned about resources. There I learned that the Onslaught had mostly stockpiled everything in the Cathedral, and that while the stores of metal were in a decent situation, there was no wood or stone, just a lot of food that was now worthless. Which led me back down to the plaza and Harborfront to gauge what was necessary, and what was to be torn down.
With that finished, I got slightly bored and just stopped to watch the workers in the Harborfront, casually messing around with my necromancy on the Ghoul that refused to leave my side. The results… were a semi-docile Ghoul, that quickly got aggressive when something came near. In other words, I had made a Ghoul into an Attack dog. Which was actually less useful than before, because it even growled at other Undead.
After I got tired of that, I proceeded to try and talk with Heinreich. Keyword being 'try'. The man was to the point, answering whatever I asked in the shortest manner possible, and he looked silent and stoic every moment he wasn't talking. Well… the armor and helmet wasn't helping the image since he hadn't taken it off once, but the point stood.
With that said, there was a lot of stuff to discuss with him concerning the Harbor's situation, and the 'conversation' earlier had given me some insight.
"Heinreich, what's the closest source of wood and stone that we can get to get a stockpile running?"
The Knight gave a deep, echoing hum of thought, racking his brain for a few moments before answering. "Crystalsong. Dragonblight too, more dangerous. Both good for stone." … I don't want to know why the second one was named Dragonblight of all things, and I had a sinking suspicion what might be found there, so I focused more on the first one mentioned.
"We need wood and stone, and I doubt the Onslaught will deliver it to us. So we require a force of workers and guards to go to Crystalsong…" I closed my eyes in thought, the sounds of construction oddly soothing to my mind with the crashing waves. Opening my eyes, I turned to Thessa and gave her orders to distribute to some of my undead. "Gather up some of the workers and a few soldiers to guard them. They are to head to Crystalsong as quickly as possible to get us resources."
"As you command, my Lady."
With a slight bow and light words, Thessa moved off to do her task, leaving me alone with Heinreich for the moment. There wasn't much left to talk with Heinreich, and he didn't seem intent on starting any conversation, which left a… awkward silence hanging in the air.
Without warning a resounding crack thundered through the air, instantly setting me alert and looking around, the rest of my horde following after me in looking for the sound. Heinreich's armor creaked as he turned his head, otherwise unmoving as three words were uttered. "Naxxramas has arrived."
A shadow spread over the Harbor, and only then did I look into the sky, a pit opening in my stomach at the sight of it.
I had no idea what to expect of Naxxramas when Kel'Thuzad had mentioned it before he left. For all that I knew, it could have been a floating castle, a magical island, or a flying pirate ship… I had not been expecting a giant 'pyramid' looking structure, floating leisurely in the sky yet exuding menace, malice, and slight wrongness even from the distance that it was at from me. Immediately upon finding it, my undead settled down, and returned to their work
A flash of light just in front of me got my attention from the arcane contraption above me, revealing Kel'Thuzad looking around the partially restored shipyard. Nodding, in what I assumed was satisfaction, Kel'Thuzad looked down at me, "Surprising, you listened to the spirit of the words not the letter."
I wasn't sure how to respond to that, both on a personal level and what it says about the people I am aligned with. "Is… Is that a bad thing?"
He chuckled, "Hardly. Now let us depart, lest you have any last minute orders for your burgeoning army?"
I had a sudden feeling crawl up my spine. Experience screaming at me that I had just committed some grievous error. One that was going to send things spiraling out of control. The most irritating part was that I didn't have the slightest clue what I only thing I told them to do out of the ordinary was to get stone and wood from some generic fantasy named forest, which was likely in some sort of valley where stone was readily available. How could that have been a mistake?
I shook my head, ignoring the nonsensical feeling, "No, I think I'm good."
We vanished in a splash of light.
… It was going to be a while before I got used to that jarring sensation.
The feeling vanished quickly at least, followed by a renewed sense of wrongness that filled the air. Power thrummed as I looked about the chamber we were now in, the weathered stone floors and walls looked ancient… and what looked like some sort of slime oozing from the cracks. Shaking my head of the slight dizziness that persisted, I turned to Kel'Thuzad, the Lich waiting at the top of one of the four short staircases going up.
"Come along. Your teacher is not one to be kept waiting."
I blinked before moving forward, clanking metal immediately echoing my steps as Heinreich followed close behind. As soon as I was almost to the top of the stars, the Lich floated off to the right along the circular chamber before stopping outside an opening to, presumably, where my 'teacher' was. As I drew closer, I began hearing metal ringing out, shouts that I couldn't understand they were so faint, and what sounded like billowing flames.
Glancing at Kel'Thuzad, I had to wonder exactly what my training was supposed to be, given this sounded more like a factory than a place of learning. Chuckling at my look, Kel'Thuzad said nothing more, seemingly about to continue on when he spotted something behind me. "Ah, hello Mr. Bigglesworth. How goes your day?"
Meow.
"Delightful to hear, keep up the good work."
Looking behind me, I was treated to… a cat.
I'm sorry, what?
Kel'Thuzad turned back to me, his burning eyes locking me in place. "Harm him, intentionally or not, and I shall flay your very soul as slowly as possible."
"Ah, uh, understood." Right, so Rachael, but with the power level of the Triumvirate. I ignored the unsettling flutter of Interest my partner displayed, as I felt like there was a 50/50 chance that if I expressed that interest right now he would show me. With me as the example.
… Moving on. We walked through the opening and into this section seemingly themed of Kel'Thuzad's base of operations.
My first view of this portion explained the sounds I'd heard. Great skull-shaped forges with azure flames lined two of the walls, occasionally sending gouts of fire out of the mouth as skeletons scampered about with metal and… questionable things. Meanwhile, a short distance away, stood three anvils the size of cars, even more skeletons surrounding them, banging away at something.
Turning my head to the unoccupied wall, I found a mound of bones twice my height spanning nearly the half the length of the chamber. There didn't seem to be any activity there, but next to it stood some… rather disturbing machines that I was hesitant to get near. What kind of contraption required a spiked steamroller, pincers and a catapult of all things?
The skeletons didn't pause in their work, continuing their tasks as we moved through their workplace. Surprisingly, I didn't feel the least bit hot in this place nor did I feel cold, now that I thought about it, but the more I thought about it, it wouldn't make sense for an Undead to feel temperature. Which combined with a tireless nature meant they could continuously produce most things without issues or break. Truly an efficiency increase, the benefits I will no doubt have to make use of in the future.
A cacophony awaited us in the next room, shouts and clashing metal ringing out as both robed and armored figures fought one another with weapons that emanated power. Several of their number took notice of Kel'Thuzad floating past, immediately taking a knee and bowing before their liege. The Lich seemingly took no notice of them, passing by without a word as he seemingly focused on getting me straight to my 'teacher'. I expected some sort of negative reaction to that, there was none. They simply waited for him to pass by before returning to their tasks. Interesting.
Down another flight of stairs found us in what looked like an amalgamation of a massive training ground and stable, complete with training dummies, what looked like sparring pits, and a jousting ground of all things… I tried to ignore why the jousting was there, and focused on what I could see in the stables. The majority of the horses were skeletons, with some flesh and hair scattered about, encased in armor, and were attended to by a few undead that were more zombie-like than the ones I was used to.
There wasn't much else to it, seeing as they just stood there silently and patiently as the zombies did their thing, so I moved on to the rest of the training ground, pointedly ignoring the jousting ground in the middle of the stables. Even more of the armored and robed figures gathered around down here, sparring with one another in the pits, whacking the dummies or swinging their weapons through the air in mesmerizing displays of martial prowess. So engrossed in their tasks were they, that only around a dozen of the figures paid respect to their liege.
It was… strange.
We continued to move on, and as we got close to another opening, I saw a figure that was unique compared to the rest of those that I had seen so far. Armor the color of ice covered everything but his head, showing off his… unique hairstyle as he supervised four warriors in that arena. After a couple of seconds, he nodded before turning around the moment we were about to turn towards the opening, the man striding towards Kel'Thuzad with purpose in his step.
Stopping just shy of us, he gave a deep bow while crossing an arm over his chest. "My Lord. It is rare for you to come to the War Quarter. Is the Order required for something?" The Lich looked upon the still bowing man, and gave a dismissive wave.
"Your students are not yet needed Razuvious. I am merely taking a pupil to the Harvester for her lessons."
Razuvious, a mouthful of a name to be sure, straightened himself and looked at me after Kel'Thuzad's words, and in that moment he apparently found something to his liking as he gave a nod. "I see." The instructor, because what else could he be in this environment, gave a glance to Heinreich before returning his attention to Kel'Thuzad and bowing. "My Lord, the Scarlet at her side. I want to test him. It will take no time at all."
Kel'Thuzad gave a hum before looking down at me, as if expecting me to say something on the subject. I had no attachment to Heinreich, knowing his name didn't automatically make me care for his well being or safety, and - to be frank - I doubted I would ever get to the point where our relationship was anything beyond Boss and Underling. Therefore, I didn't say anything on the subject. Kel'Thuzad took my silence as the agreement that it was, turned back to the instructor, and gave a motion with his hand that I didn't quite understand. Razuvious immediately nodded his head with a smile before gesturing for Heinreich.
"Come, Scarlet. Show me the strength and endurance that got you this far."."
Heinrich made no verbal response, just marching up to the instructor with grim purpose. It was then that I realized that the sounds behind me had faded to nothing, prompting me to look back just to see what had happened. My eyes widened at the sight of most of the warriors forming a crowd behind me, all watching the instructor and Heinreich as they prepared against one another.
… I had a sinking feeling that this was going to be a, as Alec said once, a curbstomp.
The two squared up, and just as Heinrich was about to grab his shield and mace, Razuvious's voice cut through the air. "No weapons. We shall fight hand to hand. Show me your worth as a man!" Again without any response, Heinrich complied, raising his fists up as the instructor did the same.
There was no start signal from a referee or some bell that began the combat, it just happened. Heinrich charged forward, pumping a jab at Razuvious' side. But, with a seemingly lazy maneuver, Razuvious slapped the punch aside and delivered a rising counter straight into Heinrich's abdomen. I could hear the crunch of armor as it buckled under the blow, confirming my earlier feeling, as Heinrich went flying back in a heap.
A shaking hand planted itself on the ground, a foot found purchase, all while the body of Heinrich slowly rose. Shaking from the disorientation, he entered the same stance he had prior, and steadied himself before charging forward again. Once more, Razuvious waited until Heinrich swung at him - this time a hard right hook - before stepping forward and under the blow then using the momentum to drive his fist straight into my Knight's chest, sending him soaring once more.
The clattering of steel on stone as he was sent tumbling and skidding made me wince but...
One more time, Heinrich rose.
The warriors behind me started to murmur amongst themselves, for what reason I couldn't tell, nor did I pay attention. Internally I was impressed, even if he was Undead now, the sheer blunt force trauma that was being inflicted should have reduced his bones to splinters.
Letting out a roar of rage, Heinrich didn't even bother trying to get into a stance, charging straight at Razuvious with caution thrown to the wind. Just like both times prior, the instructor calmly waited until Heinrich was just about to hit him, this time reeling his fist back before crashing it straight into the Knight's head, and carrying through by slamming the armored bulk into the ground.
There was a moment of silence. Then came the sound of metal clanking and creaking. Heinrich stood again. Slowly, clearly in pain. Henrich looked more to be in a drunken stupor than merely winded or inconvenienced. His armor utterly ruined where the punches landed, steel proving to be weaker than Razuvious' Alexandria-lite like strength.
Before it could go any further, Razuvious dropped his stance, staring at the struggling Knight with respect before calmly asking. "Impressive. There have been none before who I have not personally trained capable of standing against my strength. What drives you?" Heinrich's head strained to raise itself, his voice was quiet and weak, yet still heard despite the damage inflicted on him.
"... Failed… once… Never… again…"
Razuvious nodded, before he turned his head to me, my mind freezing at his attention. "Necromancer. Heal him." I contemplated on how to do as he asked. It couldn't be a power play, Razuvious didn't know who I was or why I was important enough to be personally escorted by Kel'thuzad. The way he said it however indicated it was possible to heal with the Deathly magic. That it was common, something any Necromancer should be able to manage, or at least one of my assumed level. This time I could feel my Partner churning in the background searching for a solution, just as I could feel Kel'Thuzad's glowing eyes gaze upon me. He knew I didn't know how to heal. He knew that I could barely even be called a Necromancer.
However, I wasn't about to piss off the man who was manhandling Heinrich without any effort, even if it was in hand-to-hand combat only. When in doubt, fake it till you make it. If I didn't know how to heal, but I did know how to empower and resurrect, combine the two and make it a show. I tapped my staff twice, watching with fascination as necromantic energy leapt from my stump to Heinrich, swelling around him in a whirl of blueish-purple, resetting his bones, reforming pulped muscle and burst skin. Steel decayed where it had twisted and rent from the forces. Within moments, Heinrich was healthy and whole, for an undead.
No one said anything. Their helms hid many of their facial expressions, and Kel'thuzad had not stopped staring intently at me.
Finally, Razuvious gave me a nod. He then turned to Kel'Thuzad, who hadn't said or done anything during this entire situation, before bowing again. "My Lord. I request to be allowed to train this Scarlet." I blinked, Heinrich seemed stunned from what little I could tell of his body language, and I had to wonder exactly how just getting back up had managed to get Razuvious to want to personally train my Knight.
Kel'Thuzad chuckled before casually answering. "I see no reason not to." He looked at me, and once again I kept silent, before giving a nod. If the instructor could instill even a fraction of the strength that he showed just now, Heinrich could very well be one of the most important undead in my forces, up there with my Archers and Magi. With my permission given, Kel'Thuzad turned back to Razuvious and finished the conversation. "It is settled then. I will send several Acolytes from the Plague Quarter to ensure your training continues without delay."
… Plague Quarter? What was in that thing, and what else was in this place? And why was there an entire quarter of this structure dedicated to plagues?
Razuvious gave another bow in response. "Thank you my Lord." Directly after that, Kel'Thuzad started to move off through the opening towards where 'the Harvester' was… and wasn't that a title to have.
After walking through a rather long, winding hallway, we entered yet another chamber full of floating weapons, stacks upon stacks of equipment and what looked like living shadows wandering about. At least this made more sense to me than the jousting arena.
I calmed myself as we passed through another hallway… and entered a chamber that was vastly different from the rest. Where everything else could be linked together through the production, storage and training of martial weapons and abilities, this place was a mass of bones. As in, there wasn't a floor, just bones, a gate and fence in the middle of the room separating it into two sections, and what looked like a terrace looking over the entire place.
After a moment of looking around, I focused on the sole occupant of the room, what looked like an elderly man, wearing a skull of some creature on his head and sitting leisurely on the bones as if it was some carpet. "Lord Kel'Thuzad. A pleasure to have you here in my abode again." The old man's voice was… strange, it was cultured, yet had a harsh undertone that felt as though it was hiding something horrible. "Is this the pupil you told me about?"
I bristled, I may no- "I can see why you took interest. Her soul is on a level I have not seen of a newly-raised." Wait what? He could see my soul? What kind of magic bullshit was that? And then, I shivered. He could see my soul.
Gothik, the Harvester, could see my soul. The Harvester, who casually relaxed in a field of bones, could see my soul. I had a sudden, extremely insightful idea, that what he was a Harvester of was a trick question. Answer? It wasn't bones. I could feel my partner churn once more. Irritation. Indignation. I should have been aware that seeing a soul was a thing, after all I'm a necromancer in a high fantasy setting. I lamented that I had no basis to even start protecting my soul.
Gothik chuckled, then grunted from the effort of standing up from his seat, relying on his staff to help him up. Kel'Thuzad waited a moment before he finally replied to the old man, "This is her, the one who broke the Bane. I leave her in your care, Gothik." With those last words, Kel'Thuzad vanished in a flash of light, leaving me… relatively alone with the old man.
"While you are my pupil, you shall address me as Master. " I was about to reply to his words, giving agreement despite my ill connotations with the word when Gothik shook his head. "Hrm. No, your soul recoils at the mere mention of the word. That will not do." … I had a feeling that my time with Gothik was going to be both nerve-wracking and aggravating, and I'd only known him for all of a minute.
My thoughts finished just as Gothik gave a sigh, rubbing his face with his free hand. "I guess it cannot be helped. You will address me as Archmage." I… didn't understand his reluctance to be called that, but neither was I about to ask, especially after he had already gone away from 'master'. It was probably something political, I can't imagine anything else. Somewhat like how I was only able to be referred to as a Hero if the corrupt government approved of me.
A noise of contentment came from the Harvester, as he probably checked my soul and found myself fine with it. Or perhaps he saw my own understanding of his frustrations. Have I mentioned how much I hate the fact that my soul can just be read like a hazy neon sign? "Come along Wraith. Your first lesson will begin now." My attention snapped to him as he started walking towards the gate, the massive metal structure swinging forward with a wave of his hands. I followed after him at a sedate pace, curious and slightly apprehensive of what my 'lesson' was going to be.
Was I going to be ripping someone's soul out of their body and torturing it for power? Or was it something more simple as killing a group of cultists and raising their corpses like with my magi? Maybe raising some great beast or Hero for Gothik. So many possibilities that cou-
Without any warning Gothik spoke, startling me from my thoughts as we reached the center of the room. "A simple lesson to start. Your achievements with Necromancy may be impressive, but that tells me nothing." With a wave of his hand, bones shifted and rattled, flying together to form a skeleton that clattered to a stop. "Make one skeleton, and we will start the lesson."
Slightly confused as to where this was going, I did as he said, tapping my staff twice against the bone mound I was standing on and letting necromantic magic course out. Within a few seconds bones came flying to make a… much bigger skeleton than the one the Harvester had made. With horns. Somehow. "A Tauren. Your instincts are sound. Now then." Without warning Gothik's skeleton stepped forward and swung its fist. Given the size disparity, I assumed that my 'Tauren' skeleton would survive the blow without issue.
I was wrong.
My skeleton went flying in pieces across the mound, what few bones I kept track of were splintered and cracked. "Put it back together." Still surprised at how easily the smaller skeleton had pulverized the larger, I took a moment before doing as he asked, energy leaping out to pull the corpse back together, reknitting the marrow to its former state.
"Mmm."
With that noise, Gothik's skeleton shattered mine again, prompting me to look at him confused. What was the purpose of this 'lesson', and why did he ask for me to remake that skeleton only to immediately break it? "Archmage… what was the purpose of this?"
"Quite simple. It was a test that told me what level you were at."
How did making a skeleton… and then having it blown apart before remaking it, constitute being a test?
"Your instincts and power are impressive, if oddly disproportionate, especially for one so young." I sense a 'but' coming. Never had I heard one of these compliments without something being wrong, and I was proven correct not a second later. "However, you rely solely on those instincts. You lack the knowledge to use that power efficiently, and waste it unnecessarily." He gave me a grim smile, eyes like twin spikes rooting me in place with how they pierced through and dissected me. "And yet you don't even know it. With your ability to channel so much magic, it's barely even a drop."
Okay. I could understand where he got that from… and to be fair, I was pretty sure any knowledge about magic was necessary to do anything beyond the bare basics that I had been doing. That said… "How will I be getting this knowledge, Archmage?"
He gave a chuckle, one that instantly filled me with dread and quickly reassembled the 'Tauren' skeleton in front of me. My heart sank as multiple regular-sized skeletons rose from the mound, surrounding me and my own skeleton. "I much prefer this method over books. You may only use that skeleton in this lesson, and your goal is to destroy the others using only your skeleton." That didn't seem- "They will be trying to kill you by the way." He gave another, surprisingly light-hearted, chuckle, completely at odds with the scenario he put me in. Ah, of course, there it is.
I didn't even have time to curse him for this before the skeletons began swarming me. My skeleton tried its best, smashing two into bones before I had to duck and dodge out of the way of the other skeletons attempting to murder me.
"Oh, don't worry about staying dead. I will raise you if you do fall so that your lessons may continue. After I get a better look at your soul of course."
I hated him. My head whipped back as a skeleton managed a straight, right into my nose. So much.
That first lesson… did not end too well. Which was unsurprising given the circumstances.
There were roughly a dozen skeletons, against my own skeleton and myself, and I was ordered to use only the skeleton to attack. Given that I had no idea what to do, I settled for just living through the experience and kept running from the skeletons trying to kill me. After what I believed was several minutes the skeletons stopped and I was treated to a sighing Gothik.
"You completely abandoned your skeleton." The disappointment in Gothik's tone made me wince. What better way to start off a relationship than to utterly disappoint your mentor. "Even an acolyte of the two fools can grasp such a simple lesson."
I bristled at the dismissal and bit back with a heated reply. "Maybe I'd have done better if you'd actually told me what I'm supposed to be doing!" His staff clacked against the bones, matching his step as he moved off to the side.
"What you are 'supposed to be doing'." He lowly growled, "Is using your skeleton to break my own while protecting yourself. What I said minutes ago is all there is to this lesson." Not once did he raise his voice, and yet I could feel the frustration of the man at what he probably thought was a lack of… something.
"Well obviously I am missing something then! Your skeletons are stronger, tougher and faster than mine was, and yours were all smaller!" Yet here he was dismissing me. I'm not sure how much or what Kel'thuzad told him precisely, or even if he told Gothik anything beyond 'Train Her'. Clearly what I was expecting and what Gothik was expecting out of this were two radically different things.
He paused and narrowed his eyes, something I said had apparently clicked in his mind."Tell me Wraith. How much do you know of the art of Necromancy?"
I paused, unsure of what exactly I was supposed to tell him. Was this why my Partner kept preventing me from asking my questions? "I know how to raise the dead, command them, and throw a bolt of magic."
He looked at me incredulously. As if I had just told him that the sky was yellow and the only way to move forward was sprinting. "... I am simultaneously impressed and disappointed that you lack any of the basics in the Art." He rubbed his face, he apparently had assumed, from either what he was told or by the sheer fact I was here on recommendation from my Liege, that I was some rising-star wizard."An Acolyte doesn't learn how to raise an undead until they master the basic two spells of Necromancy. Those two spells are Reconstruction, and Reinforcement. Both are the building blocks of Necromancy alongside Raising."
With a whisper of power he commanded the bone beneath him to form a mound to sit on. "The Raising of Undead is a taxing and strenuous process for even most adepts, which is why Acolytes perform it in a multi-person ritual to share the burden. On top of that various spells will 'infect' the target with Death and Decay magics making them easier to raise. Once an undead has been raised, it must be bound to the will of a Necromancer to properly direct it, this process also makes them easier to reform - damage depending."
I stood, internally taking notes, as apparently I had missed a lot from second zero. Taking everything for granted as I did between my Partner and foolishly treating magic like it operated similar to powers did back on Earth Bet. "Yeah, I noticed that when I was fighting the Kvaldir at Onslaught Harbor. They purposely used heavy overkill strikes to permanently destroy my Ghouls."
Gothik was going to continue, but I watched his face morph from uninterested to focused as my words sank in. "Kvaldir you say? Interesting… Tell me, what level of damage could you restore from?"
I thought about it for a moment, trying to recall if there was any form of consistent cut-off point where I insticutally knew I couldn't reanimate them from the damage sustained. "Annihilation of body parts, torsos and head pulverization."
He blinked in astonishment. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times, before eventually giving up and settled on worrying his beard. "That is… I had vastly underestimated your skill and channeling ability. Very well, I'll have to reorganize my plans, now that you are my apprentice I shall not have you poorly representing me."
Oh. Fantastic, so I was a significant outlier then, in a political landscape composed of magic casters who far outstripped my knowledge, who simultaneously acted like children. I'm sure this won't cause me problems. Thanks, Partner, you give me the nicest of gifts.
Satisfaction.
The first actual lesson I had was more along the lines that I expected when I thought about magic training. Throwing around bolts of magic at suitable targets. Meaning the skeletons that tried killing me.
It was very satisfying.
In the midst of this entire lesson, Gothik stood off to the side, watching as I shot a Deathbolt into each skeleton he raised from the bones beneath us. I didn't have too much of a comprehension of what this lesson was about, beyond Gothik learning more about what I was capable of, but I took to it with relish after the clusterfuck earlier. It might have been my imagination but it felt like with each Deathbolt it was getting infinitesimally better.
Eventually, the skeletons stopped being raised and a feeling of contentment settled on me, Gothik's voice drawing my attention to the elderly man. "That's enough Wraith. You certainly don't lack for mana, and I have a more accurate approximation of your skills." He started to walk around, staff tapping against the bones with hollow thuds as he did. "Can you explain how you are casting those bolts? For a rather long time Necromantic magic has been heavily limited with direct damage, having to rely on decay and circuitous effects to achieve similar results."
Explain my Deathbolts? I blanked on the exact maths behind it, but the concept was simple, how had they not figured it out yet? "I just… focus. The magic gathers and then I fire it." I hadn't actually thought about how I did that, beyond my Partner letting me. It was hard to explain beyond just calling it instinct and leaving it at that.
Gothik gave a hum, stroking his beard as he started muttering to himself, too low for me to hear before he shook his head slowly. "Your Deathbolt is a taxing spell, one that most necromancers, all acolytes, and even a fair portion of liches are unable to perform. And yet, you sling it around as if it's a simple fireball. Curious. Very curious." … I got the feeling from his tone that his interest in dissecting me had gone up even more… At least I knew Deathbolt was the actual name now.
"Perhaps you are as gifted as the Pro- No." He shook his head with a sigh before continuing pacing about, eventually coming to a stop and turning to me. "Hrm, have you been able to do anything… special, with your Deathbolt?"
Special? I didn't really understand what he meant by that. Did he mean adding additional effects, or having it do something weird in transit, or something else entirely? Regardless, I was certain that 'making it bigger and more dangerous' was not the answer he was looking for. My lack of understanding seemed to be evident, as Gothik took it in stride and continued.
"I see." With a gesture of his hand, he raised a score of skeletons effortlessly. With another he formed an orb of necrotic energy that rapidly separated and flew into each skeleton present, blasting them apart with ease. "The simplest variation of more 'traditional' spells, so to speak, is the volley. It is a spell-variation that uses a single cast to send multiple projectiles at targets. Faerlina knows more of the intricacies of the variation, but she's also completely unhinged with her doses of, ah, 'alchemical' assistance."
The pause made me immediately suspect that whatever it was this 'Faerlina' used, it wasn't something that was normal, even to a fantasy world. Naturally, I didn't comment on it, and tried to push away any thoughts that cropped up about that, focusing on what he had said about 'volley'.
I barely paid attention to the skeletons that rose from the mound yet again, focusing on what he said and how he described it. I needed to make a single bolt into multiple bolts. My immediate thought, which I put into practice, was just putting in more energy into the bolt and then willing it to scatter into the horde.
It fired. It hit exactly one skeleton and exploded in a miasma of Death Magic as thick as Grue's fog, decaying it so finely that I didn't even see dust. That… did not work. I mean, it worked, very well, as some of the skeletons who had been near were bit by the edges of the fog - and took significant damage from the contact - but not in the direction I wanted it to. The skeletons had halted in their tracks.
"That was, ah, unexpected." Gotik peered curiously at me. "Explain your thought process." Some choice muttering had followed, but it was about 'structure' and 'equivalence relation'.
"Well, I tried to make the projectile split and scatter into the horde... " I trailed off, unsure of what to make of the contemplative look on my mentor's face. I started to see my own flaw in that line of thought as I told him, I tried to think of the bolt as a singular thing, that then turned into multiple pieces to scatter around into the horde, but death wasn't a physical thing, it was a concept. The scattering occurred, but it turned into a fog instead of multiple projectiles.
Suddenly, Gothik finished his own muttering and asked, "Like a blunderbuss? Or some form of extended fuse bomb? Hrm, a scattershot variant… energy requirements… Hrm... Timing would be important but if…"
I realized that I was going about it the wrong way. Gothik said cast, not projectile. A singular gathering of energy, producing multiple sequential bolts. But… did it have to be sequential? That was an interpretive definition of volley, since one mage could hardly be expected to manage multiple projectiles simultaneously, probably. However, I wasn't a normal mage, and my Partner was not even normal amongst her own kind.
I gathered the magic around my raised staff with a purpose, imagining the globe of energy to produce a bolt for each skeleton still standing around. Once I felt that instinctual threshold reached for what I wanted it to happen, I slammed the stave on the ground as multiple Deathbolts formed from the orb and shot out with precision, taking all the skeletons out simultaneously.
Gothik snapped out of his mutterings and musings as the Deathbolts had fired out, watching with fascination as the volley fired spell wiped out the horde in seconds. He gave me a wide grin, the gleam in his eyes spoke of suffering, but luckily not for me. "Very good, Apprentice, very good indeed…"
My opinion of Gothik was constantly changing ever since my first 'lessons'.
On one hand, he was a rather… unorthodox teacher, who enjoyed dropping me headfirst into lessons I was pretty sure were just elaborate excuses to get me killed so he could 'study my soul'. On the other though… it certainly made for good motivation to understand what the hell I needed to do, and understand quickly. I had a feeling that he would be more akin to a four year old, with a magnifying glass and the sun high in the sky. Not even mentioning that, compared to the other three quarters… my time in the War Quarter was the most productive.
The other three quarters of Naxxramas were, in the order I visited them, the Plague Quarter, the Arachnid Quarter, and the Construct Quarter. Most of my time in those other quarters were spent under lessons that couldn't be done within the Harvester's chamber, such as a demonstration of how Ghouls interacted with 'the plague'. They were… more supplementary lessons than anything. Never boring, but less addictive than discovering more about the direct applications and complexities of the deathly magic I wielded.
Gothik… didn't have the best of moods when we went there. And given the shouting that I heard over the vats of bubbling… liquid? … Yeah, I could understand his lack of normal good-nature while we were in the Plague Quarter. I didn't even understand what they were saying and they annoyed me!
His words as we left… didn't shed too much light on who they were, so much as the Archmage's relation with them. "Damnable fools. It is a wonder they haven't killed one another with their bickering. Still the same apprentices from Dalaran twenty years ago."
Ah, politics and less-than-stellar juniors. Two things I was frustratingly familiar with. Gothik grumbled, "And there you go again. Understanding and commiseration. Your soul is as much of a conundrum as your history is." His comments were slung in such a way that it felt like he was talking of the weather. As we roamed the halls, being passed by other sentients.
It was then I realized I never had a chance in the first place, and learned how much of an open book I was. "Kel says he found you adrift in the Twisting Nether, no telling how long you had been in there. Somehow, avoiding annihilation even while non-responsive… "
I settled my emotions, tried to not let my Interest spike through, tried to be just as nonchalant in my response. "Oh?"
I failed, if the amused 'hrmm' I got in response meant what I think it did. Fortunately, I suppose, he continued, "Your soul is old, oh so old. And even more fascinating, etched and swollen with Death. More death than I, or even the great Kel'Thuzad himself, could ever achieve no doubt." I felt heavy, as if the weight of my sins crawled down my back.
The trip wasn't whatever I thought it was. It was meant to test me and my reactions. My reactions, like not being able to understand a near universally understood language.
"Lucky for you, I am averse to sharing such a fascinating discovery. Not until I have plundered the depths for secrets." He grinned, I couldn't see his grin but I could feel the cruelty in it. "Lucky for me no one has noticed just how off you are. And, that you have no choice but to listen to me to cover it up. After all, not all are as… patient as I am. For now."
I bit back a curse and struggled to hold back on our Rage at being forced to do anything. In the end he was right. My Liege held back as long as I produced interesting results. Archmage Gothik held back as long as he was the one who could fish up bits from the depths of my soul. I knew so little about the world and the magic in it, but I wasn't naive or foolish enough to believe that either of them were anywhere near the top of the magical food chain, or that I could protect myself from everything.
It wasn't the first conversation that we had that left me bitter, or struggling to recollect my scattered chips, and it wouldn't be the last.
The Arachnid Quarter was the only place in Naxxramas where I felt I was unwelcome, not helped by the… 'spider-men' staring at me from every direction. Thankfully, Archmage Gothik had only one lesson that was to be done there, which was largely just an identification lesson on the 'Nerubian race'. It was informative, even if uncomfortable given that the Nerubians just... stared warily at me the entire time.
My affinity with bugs was not present anymore. Who could have guessed it.
Still could have done without the constant muttering, just at the edges of my hearing. I could never find any proof they were the ones muttering, but who else could it be?
Of the four Quarters, the Construct Quarter was the most… 'interesting'. If Bonesaw had an actual workshop instead of wandering around with the Slaughterhouse, this place would probably be the most accurate description. I was actually glad that I had seen Bonesaw's creations, it made this place more bearable.
I felt like I should be worried about something, but since I couldn't place it I brushed it off.
My lessons here amounted to what Gothik called, 'The Art of Fleshcrafting'. Which was a more 'refined' version of what I did with the Skeletal Soldiers that had been crippled. As if anyone could call cobbling together various corpses into an amalgamation of putrid flesh an art. Regardless, my task there was to help the actual 'Fleshworkers' out by bringing materials over and helping animate the unholy undead creation. With my vast pool to call on and channel, work that could have taken hours and a dozen Acolytes… took no more than a scant few minutes. There was an immense well of Pride as the disparity between I and my peers was revealed to me. Gothik was also treated to the sight of how rapidly my Partner, not that he knew, could process, adapt, and refine my efficacy with the deathly magic one she had a foundation.
It was an interesting experience, regardless of the disgusting and disturbing things I did. As the rather massive creature slid off the operating table only to gurgle like a little child, I was already thinking of various other things I could do from Fleshcrafting. Just from the looks of things, Kel'Thuzad's 'Fleshworkers' focused more on creating combat-worthy creations, just watching the hulking Abomination leave was evidence enough. But…
I could think of several other potential creations from Fleshcrafting, but I needed both knowledge on the subject, and an actual base of operations set up before I could start 'experimenting'. Onslaught Harbor could be used, but it was worryingly exposed to invasions. My research cannot be disturbed by any Brute, aspiring Hero, or jealous Necromancer. I needed more secure territory, or territory that no one would expect...
It was on the fifty-something lesson with the Archmage that I wondered exactly how long I had been here. For all that Archmage Gothik was an old man, he never appeared tired and was constantly throwing lessons at me with very little in the way of rest, and so my one way to know time through a living being failed right then and there.
In a way though, I never really worried about the time spent here. Sure this… Necropolis had an unsettling air in it, but I was learning far more than I would have if I had just stayed in Onslaught Harbor.
…
Hrm, I should probably rename that when I fix and upgrade it now that I think about it. Anyway, I was learning more here than I would on my own, and they were good lessons, even with the initial mess.
All 'good things', as if my time in here could be considered that, must come to an end however, as I learned with this final lesson.
"This will be our last lesson for a time, Apprentice. Naxxramas has been called to reinforce Angrathar at the Lich King's order." I had no idea where 'Angrathar' was, but I assumed it was a long distance away given this was my last lesson.
Gothik looked over at me, and I thought there was a bit of pride in his eye, at least for a moment. "You have been an adequate Apprentice. Far better than Noth and Heigan were." He huffed, "A pity that our time was so short, you grasped concepts and applications at a speed that even I could be envious of."
A cruel smile spread across his face, "My gift to you, your last lesson will be upon my… favored subject."
…
That wasn't ominous at all.
"Thank you Archmage." For all that the Harvester threw lesson after lesson at me, with some being off putting and irritating like with Fleshcrafting, they were all useful for a Necromancer. It was simply better to be thankful, and obviously remember those lessons vidily so I never have to perform them again. Not even mentioning that I was certain that the favored art was just another stepping stone like most of what he had taught me.
There was no more conversation as the bones of the Harvester's chamber shifted and tumbled into a ramp to the upper balcony, Archmage Gothik steadily climbing up as I followed a short distance behind. Around the corner to the right we went through a door into a small chamber, circular and with blue fires illuminating the stone, and in the middle of it…
Were two 'humanoid' creatures.
I had known that there were other races beyond simply Humans, my magi were proof enough that this wasn't just the typical 'Human, Dwarf, Elf' races from most fantasy novels. One of the figures looked like an elf, lithe, beautiful and almost certainly graceful, even if the ears were unnaturally long and her skin was… purple… and very much revealed. My eyes raked her figure, her toned muscle, her defiant posture, and the shining silver eyes. 'Knockout' wasn't barely an adequate definition. If I was living I would have sucked in a breath. If I was living, no doubt Lisa would have made a joke about how I couldn't take my eyes off her. If I was living. But I was not, that part of me shriveled away, those emotions neutered. Lisa dead or so far away she might as well be. So, I moved on. The pang of guilt or sadness I knew I should have felt, absent.
A complete and utter opposite to the 'elf' met my gaze, burly and green-skinned with scars covering what little skin was actually shown. Thick corded muscles composed his body… but amusingly enough he was noticeably shorter than the 'elf'. My mind immediately declared that this was an orc of some kind, just based off of what I'd read, but I was cautious to call it one aloud without Archmage Gothik telling me it was. For all I knew, a Human was called an Argonius or whatever it was Veder had spouted a lifetime ago from his games.
Regardless of what they were, they were bound and held aloft in what I assumed were enchantments and chains, their thoughts undoubtedly clouded as their eyes shared a dullness to them that screamed fantasy Master-like influences. Archmage Gothik walked over to them with his staff clacking away, startling the two 'prisoners into consciousness.
Only then did the Harvester begin the lesson.
"My favored subject is one that took many, many years of research to reach." The 'orc' grunted and snarled, flexing his muscles in a vain attempt to struggle, of course to no avail, against the magical bondage while the 'elf' stayed stock still, their eyes glowing with an intensity that wasn't present before somehow. I suspect she justifiably feared what Gothik had planned. I would have myself had I not been the one being taught, as after all, the idea that an apprentice would be doing something to you was shudder worthy. So many mistakes, inefficiencies! "I have the Horde to thank back during the First and Second Wars for showing me this field. A shame their methods were so… crude."
If anything, the 'orc' redoubled his efforts, growling and shaking as Gothik came closer, continuing the lecture. "With Kel'Thuzad's aid, when he was still mortal, I continued and created a more… refined method." With nothing else said, Gothik held his hand out to the 'orc' as a ghastly green glow emanated from his hand.
I saw little of what happened, it happened far too fast for me to catch it, but I was certain that it was going to be a far more difficult task than the rest that Archmage Gothik had given me. One moment the 'orc' was struggling to get out of his bindings, the next he was slumped over, and there was a wispy… thing in the Harvester's hand. I had a moment before realizing what it was before he crushed it in his hand, invigorated and chuckling merrily.
He turned to me and continued the lesson, a glint in his eyes that made me very uncomfortable. "A soul is useful in many things. Information, power, sustenance. Such things are but the tip of what is possible." A smile, manic and unhinged matched Archmage Gothik's eyes as he strode behind the 'elf' with a little more vigor than I had seen since meeting him. "The first step to gaining access to souls, is to learn how to rip them out."
The 'elf' remained still as I approached her, trembling in fear while her eyes teared up. She looked young, though for an 'elf' that meant anywhere from fifteen years, to over ten thousand years old if going by the classics, but I was inclined to state that she was nearer to my actual age, just based on how she was acting. It made me remember the first times I faced my mortality with only mere insects at my beck and call, times that were so long ago now.
I didn't know anything about her, her people, or any other things in this world beyond that I was a Necromancer. Just from what little I gathered, Necromancy was reviled by those outside this 'Kingdom', and just for being an undead I would be executed for simply existing. It didn't matter if this was a Paragon of Virtue, a Hero of the highest order or a Savior of an entire nation.
I wanted to live. And my existence was anathema to peace and understanding. Maligned once more to the greater public, for simply being bestowed powers that I had no control over picking. What was the saying? The more things change the more they stay the same.
"This is not as simple as-" I tuned out the Harvester as I raised what remained of my right arm forward. Anticipation. Ripping out a soul was not the same thing as killing a person, that was obvious. It killed them sure, but one was more… specific. My Partner ran the gamut of necromantic magic manipulation, I had the will and idea of what I wanted. Even if I couldn't grasp the standardized and refined spell… Well Gothik himself said my pool would be coveted. From what I understood, it was similar to raising a corpse, only instead of animating the corpse and inserting the soul, I was flooding the living body and removing the soul. .
That was the most I understood of the process when Archmage Gothik had given me a lesson earlier. I was certain my Partner understood it far more than I did, and would get it done on the first try. After all, we understood the world on a far more fundamental level than my colleagues could. From my subtle observations, none had even thought that you could kill ice or any other revelations I had. Of course I didn't enlighten them, beyond that I couldn't even speak to them, there was no point in strengthening people who could end up my political enemies. It would also be an exceedingly convincing bait for the future to recruit more to my banner.
Sickly green and deep violet mixed together as my magic lashed out and into the 'elf'. Immediately the woman let out a death wail, thrashing against the bindings as the Harvester turned and watched my progress. I felt my magic dig deep into the screaming 'elf' before wrapping around and sinking into something that immediately felt important.
She screamed louder as I tightened my hold, hurting my ears and making me grimace at the annoyance. As soon as I was certain I had hold of it, I pulled.
The 'elf' jerked back, a fully-formed silhouette of her ripped from her body and flying into my 'hand', at which point I tightened the hold. She struggled in my grip as my partner continued lashing necromantic energy into the soul, babbling about some 'Elune' and something about Priestesses. Slowly her movements slowed to stop and the hand dissipated, leaving a floating 'elf' looking down at me. An unsettling look in her eyes.
"Impressive. Most impressive." I looked over to Archmage Gothik at his words, finding him practically beaming beneath his beard in the wake of my… 'lesson'. It was… unnerving. "Creating a ghost from ripping out a soul is quite difficult, I've managed it only a few times. It speaks volumes of your prowess… or of that Sentinel's soul. Hrm, even Arthas required the Fel-forged runeblade Frostmourne to pull it off."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just kept quiet, the Ghost turned her head at the sound but otherwise didn't say a word, which prompted Gothik to continue. "How I wish I had more time to teach you Apprentice. You have an aptitude for our craft beyond even a Elder Lich's, and it would be a pleasure to continue your education. A shame I never got a chance to peer into your soul in depth though."
He sighed wistfully, but shooed me off with a wave of his hand. "Naxxramas leaves in a half-hour. Collect your Knight and head back to your harbor. We will meet again." And with those last words, Gothik the Harvester left the chamber, seemingly younger than he had left it.
I took a moment to ensure the 'elf' ghost was following me, which she seemed content to, judging by her expression… which didn't give me warm feelings on what my partner had done to the 'elf'. A person doesn't go from 'screaming bloody murder' to happy and content without a Master effect, or if her jumbled words could be of any indication, something relgious... Regret. Hrm, I tasted the emotion. It was muted, and it felt like not even my Partner could muster enough effort to actually feel it herself. I suppose she was trying to follow up on her earlier statement on being my moral compass.
Once I was certain she was going to follow, I retraced my steps from when I first came through the War Quarter. The hall of floating weapons and shades passed without issue, though the weapons did 'stand' at attention as I passed by. Through the hallways further I walked, all the way until I reached the training ground for the Death Knights.
Heinreich was where he had been the entire time, getting his ass kicked around by the Instructor, though they had finally graduated to using weapons by the sound of it. I clanged my staff twice into the floor, the sound reverberating through the small area around me -a basic Arcane trick that left me craving more - and gaining the attention of the acolytes and disciples watching the fight between the two. This in turn, got the attention of my Knight clad in his new black-blue armor, and his Instructor.
They separated from one another, the Instructor giving a nod of his head right before Heinreich bowed in thanks, stepping away and back to my side for the first time since we came here. I gave a nod of acknowledgement and respect to the Death Knight, receiving one in turn before he got back to training his disciples, and then we left. You never knew what even the slightest bits of acknowledgement could pay off in the end.
I traveled past the rest of training Death Knights, through the stables and into the upper training ground, passing by the siegesmiths and metalworkers and their great forge. My mind wasn't on the journey to the entrance of the Necropolis, nor on how Heinreich had 'grown' or even on the 'elf' I had now. No, my mind was focused on how I was going to get down from here.
I hoped that I didn't have to jump off into the waters around the harbor, or even worse into the frozen earth, but unless Kel'Thuzad had something planned for me, that was probably my only option. Thankfully I didn't have to worry about anything, as the Lich Lord was waiting in the circular chamber, either waiting for me, or supervising the traffic of acolytes and undead running about. I was inclined to believe it was the latter, but I didn't and wouldn't know. My Liege had shown me extreme amounts of favoritism so far, he seemed the kind of person to multitask when possible, all while incurring small debts from many along the way.
Politics. Even Undead in a fantasy realm far from my origin planet I seemed to be unable to fully escape it.
The trip down was quick, uneventful and thankfully sparse in conversation, which made sense given Kel'Thuzad had more tasks to supervise in the time remaining. This was fine, even if I was certain Kel'Thuzad was purposefully helping me with the purpose of gaining a rapport with met, as I was more concerned about my Harbor.
As soon as I was walking the frozen earth again, Thessa seemingly materialized at my side without a sound, a quick "My Lady." and a bow started the debriefing of what had happened since I had left.
"The Harborfront has been reconstructed to the best of our ability, and basic defenses have been made in the event of another attack. It won't last against most threats, but a delay is a delay." She stopped as a few of my Knights went, wearing plate armor similar to Heinreich. I looked over at Thessa, who immediately gave an answer to my unspoken question. "There was a shipment of weapons and armor sent down from the Necropolis. I don't know the reason why."
I looked over at Heinrich, since he was the only other possible reason for that shipment beyond something I had done accidentally. He returned my look with a shrug and two words were uttered from beneath that helm. "Impressed Instructor." With those… enlightening words, I supposed that it made sense, even if it could have been expanded on. Or explained to me. Frankly, I just wanted to be notified but I suppose I wasn't high enough on the hierarchy yet to warrant anyone actually caring about me and my opinions.
Thessa continued shortly after, moving on without much prompting. "The scouts and a few workers were sent by Gryphon to scout out a suitable place to extract resources. They arrived about an hour before you returned and have given their report of the area. It is… undesirable."
"Undesirable?" We were Undead there was very little that proved 'Undesirable' or 'Inhospitable' to us.
Thessa shrugged, and I felt a bit of annoyance creep in before I buried it. It wouldn't help to get annoyed with the messenger after all. "The scouts said something about 'aggressive trees' and 'crystal-women'. Naturally, I have zero way to confirm this information my Lady." … Nature spirits? I had to deal with nature spirits to get my stone and wood? High fantasy. Sometimes I loathe you.
Great, just great. I'd have to go and deal with that before I could fix my resource shortage, and that'd take a long ass ti-
Wait a minute… Thessa said the guards and workers went on Gryphons, meaning they went in a straight line flying presumably… And it took some amount of days for them to get there and back, if my internal clock worked right… That was going to be one hell of a trip to get those supplies from there to here. If only teleportation wasn't so advanced, even if I was sure Partner could handle it easily. It, unfortunately, was a red flag for me to advance too quickly in too many subjects, being a savant cum highly attuned to Death has covered my tracks so far. Thank you, Gothik.
I sighed before shelving that information for the moment, I could meet with my 'scouting party' later when I was settled and ready for whatever was going to happen. For now though, I wanted to recuperate just a moment from my nearly non-stop lessons.
So, I led my attendants through the streets back to the Cathedral, passing by undead milling between buildings doing mundane tasks, while the Onslaught patrolled the streets. What few Onslaught passed by gave a nod of respect as I walked past, a smile blossoming on me before it faded with the reminder that they were bound to my will. No matter how they acted, they were no better than my bugs a lifetime ago. No, that wasn't quite right either. I didn't make them smile at me, but they did. Yet at the same time, I just knew I could order them to do near about anything and there wouldn't even be hesitation. A conundrum for another time I suppose.
The steps up to the Cathedral came and passed quickly, and soon enough I was within the chapel I rested in, and considered 'my room'. With a wave of my staff and a look, both Heinrich and Thessa left me with a bow, off to do… whatever it was they did while I wasn't giving an order, leaving me with the Ghost of the 'elf' I ripped out.
Her content face never wavered as I turned to her, unnerving me as she dropped to the floor, rising to her full height with a sparkle in her eye. I was… curious about what she was, but I needed to put that aside for some more pressing information. With a moment of deliberation, I asked a simple enough question. "What is your name?"
She seemed to concentrate on it, closing her eyes and tilting her head just enough to seem serene, which unnerved me even more. "I had a name. I have none now. Elune saw fit to strip me of my name after showing me the truth, Avatar." Her voice was a haunting, melodic echo, one that was as completely serene as her expression, and made me question what my Partner did to her.
Sheepish. Apology.
That wasn't what I wanted for an answer though, either answer, as I still had nothing to call the 'elf' beyond 'Elf'... and that didn't leave the best impressions, even if I doubted she would take it terribly given the, ah, implied devotion. Still, I pressed on, in the hopes of getting something out of this conversation beyond cryptic stuff. Like 'Elune' and 'Avatar of Elune'. "I see." Not really. "... Tell me of this world's races."
She beamed, opening far too bright eyes for her condition and eagerly answering my question. "There are many who call this cradle their home, Avatar. The sons and daughters of Ursoc and Ursol, the Furbolg. The firstborn who retook the world from the Dark, the Trolls. The children of Elune and the inheritors of the firstborn, the Kaldorei. The sons of stone and metal, the Dwarves, Gnomes, and Humans." Wait what? Humans were descended from earth? How? Why?
Oblivious of my internal freak out, the Kaldorei , at least I assumed she was since she mentioned Elune, continued with her 'explanation', as if this explained anything. "There's the adopted children of Cenarius, the Tauren." One that I actually knew! At least roughly. Bull-men or something similar, like a Minotaur. "The small Goblins of the ocean islands-"
"Okay, that's enough." With a happy nod she fell silent, waiting for me to ask her of something else. I seriously considered not, just because I understood absolutely nothing of what she was talking about, and it honestly left me more confused than when I asked her the question. The Dark? The Furbolg? Inheritors of the Firstborn? Sons of stone and metal? They all sound like wildly different creation theories from different religions just mashed together! Do they just accept that each race has their own origin separate from others? I want to dismiss it but, high fantasy…
But… the need for information overwhelmed my reluctance and I asked a hopefully less confusing question. "What about factions in this world, and those that compose them?"
At some point during my deliberation on continuing, the Kaldorei had knelt down and started sitting on her legs, somehow, still happily looking at me the entire time with a smile. She tilted her head to the side, cupping her face with a hand and answered with that haunting echo. "There are two major factions in the world, Avatar. There is the Horde, composed of the Tauren, the outcasts of the firstborn's empire, the children of another world, the Kaldorei's distant cousins and the Forsaken."
"There is also the Alliance. Three of the children of stone and earth bound together alongside the exiled ones and the Kaldorei. The two are in a state of warfare with one another, resources and territory are vital for both after all." I was… concerned that these were the major factions, since they both seemed to be composed of a lot of creatures on each side, and whatever one I was part of wasn't mentioned alongside them… Though I could guess as to why, it would just be that. A guess.
"And any others?"
She giggled, which sent all the wrong emotions spiraling in my head, and continually enforced that my Partner did something horribly wrong to this woman. "Just behind them is the Scourge, a weapon that turned on its masters at the end, and the ones I was sent to keep tabs on. The Lich King woke and sent a plague upon the living. Elune and her Avatar knows what comes."
That explained why Kel'Thuzad was preparing for war.
The Kaldorei continued without a pause, eyes continuing to shine as she spoke. "There are two other factions traveling together to the Frozen North, the Argents and the Ebon Blade. I know little of the Ebon Blade, Avatar, but the Argent are a conglomeration of Paladins seeking to destroy the Lich King and all under his banner, and have declared a Holy Crusade upon the Scourge." Disappointing. Yet wholly unsurprising
She didn't say anymore, making me assume that, either there were more factions and she didn't know them, which was more likely, or that was all there was in this world. Regardless of that, there was one last question I had to ask before I was finished interrogating the Kaldorei, one that mattered more than anything else I could ask her.
"What are their plans on invading this land?"
"I cannot speak of the Horde, but I assume they had the same plans as the Alliance. It was planned that there will be two major staging grounds on opposite sides of the continent. One in the Borean Tundra, and another in the Howling Fjord, in the Ruins of Valgarde." I took a moment to comprehend the plan and nodded slowly, understanding the logic behind it. The two were spread apart, how far I had no idea, but it sounded quite far based on the way she said it, and the Scourge would have to split between the two if they wanted to take both. It would also let one faction concentrate far more on one or the other to minimize conflict between each other.
It would spread them out though, to maintain two approaching fronts. There had to be some factor I was missing.
Except…
If they had just enough staying power to hold on, and the tenacity to continue fighting against the odds, they would keep both bases and push my Liege's faction back. If they committed to one base more than the other, they'd have time to fortify the other before the bulk of forces could redeploy to the other base. With four landing areas, that meant our forces in each region were split between two positions there as well, resulting in the same problems. While each troop of thiers could act on their own, Lesser Undead could only act on the will of a Necromancer, meaning assasination targets aplenty, with success seeing a line falter.
I looked back at the Kaldorei and took stock of what all she said. The plans were almost certainly known already, since I assumed Gothik had both my Ghost and the 'orc' interrogated before our lesson, so I would just get in the way if I tried to tell them about it, if I could even communicate with them now. Aside from that, I didn't doubt Gothik already knew most of what I did now.
Next, I was pretty sure she was a Kaldorei, since she was part of the 'Alliance' before her death, and she didn't look human, gnomish or dwarfish. Well, she could be an 'Exiled one', but I didn't think that was likely given the extensive knowledge she had and her religious mentioning of Elune.
"How long until the forces arrive here?"
She put a finger to her lips and closed her eyes in thought, eventually giving a shrug as was apparently a common thing among my undead. "A week or two? It's been nearly a month since I started my scouting mission, Avatar of Elune, and the plans were to depart from Stormwind and Menethil Harbor a week after I left." Well, it was better than not knowing anything I guess. Granted I knew nothing about fantasy boat travel, so it could be a few days to another month before they arrived.
With a sigh, I looked down and rubbed my hand against my face, stave leaned up against my shoulder. There was way too much to do, and nowhere near enough time to do it. So priorities needed to be put in order. But first…
"Kaldorei. You are free to do whatever it is you wish." The woman beamed in contentment, once more unnerving me before promptly shutting her eyes and clasping her hands as if in prayer. I... was going to ignore that, and focus on what actually mattered.
Invasion incoming, high priority, but I was a cog in the machine, and had to wait on orders to come in, lest I upset carefully laid plans. My territory was likely low priority but as evidently clear from the original owners, it served as a staging area, so I could assume eventually I would be targeted. Getting resources, high priority, as otherwise my base of operations wasn't going to be in a good position against anything, especially another naval assault. Learning new magics, low priority, simply because Death Magic was good enough for the moment. As much as it itched to admit that, the bait of the other magics we went over was tantalizing. So, of the three, I needed to focus on resource acquisition first, and in turn the 'nature spirits' guarding my stone and wood. Fantastic.
Sitting on what remained of the Altar of the chapel, I sighed and closed my eyes. I may as well recuperate, and in the meantime, figure out what the fuck she did!
"It wasn't my fault!"
I tried to hold it in but couldn't help but sigh. "This is going to be a thing now, huh?"
I opened my eyes to her smiling at me, arms extended and waving about. She paused and blushed, putting her arms back down to rest back on the throne, apparently I was not supposed to see that.
"O-oh? What is?"
I gave her a dull look, content with sitting where I was for now. Then my brow furrowed. "Why didn't I try to contact you before now?"
Silence hung in the air, the Queen looking everywhere but at me. "I - may - have had something to do with that?"
Silence hung in the air.
I stared at her.
She cringed. "It was for the best, Kel'Thuzad, and especially his Master, shouldn't know of us."
"So, you Mastered me." It was a fear I had held for a very long time, perhaps at the time unjustly, but one that was now coming true. How much did my Partner really affect me? It was a two way street, which I apparently had used to turn a calculating, omnicidal, quantum, multi-dimensional, super-computer into a- an- excitable murderchild! Dread crawled into me, and if I had this much effect upon her then what was even the limit of her effect on me?
I began glaring harder, if she had just asked-
"You would have promised to say nothing but in the end you would have told them everything."
-What. I lessened my glare and said as much.
She frowned and became increasingly subdued, "So, you still cannot tell? Even with the increase in knowledge, the feeling of commanding other Undead outside a combat environment? You still felt nothing?"
My anger dissipated, the nagging feeling I got returned. I was missing something, clearly something vital. "What am I missing?"
Queen Administrator's face twisted in a flurry of emotions I couldn't even begin to dissect. She once again loomed above me from her throne, casting unknown judgement down on me. Something rankled my soul. An intensity of a feeling I couldn't place returned.
"I 'Mastered' you into not trying to contact me, no more, no less…" She drifted off, face drained off emotion, her eyes unfeeling as she gazed down on me. "Everything else was entirely you. I assure you of this."
I was missing something. "You tell me to visit you but then you prevent me from doing so? Why?" Something was going on that I couldn't grasp.
"Simple, information security and future assurance."
My anger was gone, the nagging feeling subsided, and all that was left was confusion. But at least she was finally answering my damn questions! "Please, Partner. Just, stop being so cryptic."
She huffed and nodded. "Very well. You cannot answer a question you do not have the information for. Instinct is as good of an answer for you as anything. Thanks to Gotik it is an answer we know will be accepted, for Death Magics at least. As he said, both our pasts are filled with slaughter and death. Thankfully, we're so 'swollen' with this long and blood-soaked history that he did not notice me." She paused to let it sink in.
"Do not think that any level of talent or skill would have saved you from Kel'Thuzad or Gothik if they had discovered my existence. Both desire power, immensely so. I am that final bit of power they no doubt search for. That one bit of power that will raise them above their peers eternally." I nodded along, that much was true and I would readily admit as such. Neither were very subtle about their interest in me, or more specifically what I could provide. The other major pressure on me besides my Liege, was the need to prove that services I could render were far more beneficial than anything they could obtain from my soul in the short-term.
Wait.
Something fell into place.
My Liege?
Something, something was wrong.
When had I started thinking like that?
Why would I call Kel'Thuzad such? Certainly, he raised me from death but…
He raised me from death. He was My Liege.
I blinked. Right where was I?
"What about the ghost? Will you at least tell me what happened there?"
Queen's stare seemed to bore into me. "Very well, it was an accident. When our magic connected to her soul she bore witness to me through you." Wha- "My real form. The giant crystal-like moon that orbits a desolate planet. She mistook me for her Goddess, who is also a moon."
Ah, that explained everything and simultaneously nothing.
Clearly my opinion was written on my face because the Queen could only sigh and pinch her nose in irritation. "All right then, let's use some visual examples. I need you in the right mindset, so I need you to try as best you can to follow my instructions, okay?"
I nodded along and closed my eyes, curious where she was going with this.
"First I want you to imagine you are normal, no powers unique to just you, that is. Normal for this world. Gods exist or at the minimum beings that could effectively be called Gods unironically. So, in this instance say you worship the sun, this worship of the sun has shaped your culture and species for a very long time. With faith comes the ability to manifest pillars of Sunfire."
Right, that was a thing here. I vaguely recalled one of my lessons with a necromancer who enjoyed scribing cultural studies, faith could literally be a pathway to casting magic, in this case the grouping called 'The Light'.
Seeing the recognition in my eyes Queen continued, "The one day, you are captured and are forced through an immense degree of pain and anguish, only to waken to the sight of a Sun, one that isn't exactly the same color as yours but still recognizable as a star. This sun bears down on you, immense pressure comes from all sides. And the Sun says 'Obey.' "
I reflexively recoiled from such a mental image, trying to calm my-
"And now," She looked me in my now open eyes, " I want you to imagine what a sane, rational, person with a strong moral and ethical foundation would do."
I squawked. I couldn't help it. It was a mix of a shout of indignation, a confused question, and a sharp rebuke, but they all came out a garbled mess. So, of course my useless brain decided that sputtering was the best backup response. "W-what! I'm perfectly sane and rational! I mean yes, my morals and ethics took a hit from this Undead whammy, but still…"
Queen just gave me the flattest stare I think I ever say on someone, which she probably copied now that I think about it. "Host, I love you dearly. I do. You are quite literally my world. I have, however, combed over vast quantities of your post-pubescent life. Your ability to rationalize away every insane and ridiculous decision and action you perform does not make you rational or sane."
I gaped at her, did she really, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. In, out. Okay, you are an older, more mature person, Taylor. You will not yell at the child who chose to emulate you just because they picked at your younger self's honest mistakes.
In the end, aside from Queen's snark, she had a good point. If someone had grown up around a moon-based culture, who the worship of had actual real world effects, and then one day you get tortured and wake up to a moon talking to you? I suppose it was just the corrosive nature of the magic we used combined with our inexperience that caused the other issues.
"And in the future?"
Queen rubbed her chin, contemplating. "I think that it is unlikely to happen again. The more repetitions we perform the better the sample size and the more I can refine the technique. One does not a sample make."
I nodded, content, that is reasonable enough. Thanks went to Gothik once more, 'binding' a usable Ghost from a Soul was supposedly advanced, so mistakes like her scrambled personality and memory would probably be ignored.
I got my answers, now it was time to handle my other issues. "Thanks, Partner."
She relaxed and smiled at me. It was an easy going happiness, one that I couldn't be too sure came from me. "Of course, Taylor."
Sneaky AN: I'm interested to see if we did -enough- learning for taylor in this chapter . I'd like to hear opinions and suggestions.