Chapter Three: Dreadlord's Fall

It was a black night when Balnazzar and Detheroc met together in some ancient ruins. There was somber silence between them, at least until the guest appeared. Kel'thuzad emerged from the darkness, chains flowing behind him as he made his way into the center.

"Lord Kel'thuzad, we are pleased that you came," said Balnazzar.

"For my part, I take no special joy in the matter," said Kel'thuzad. "Might I inquire as to why you sought my assistance in this… rout?"

Balnazzar scowled at the mention of the recent defeat. "The other factions of Lordaeron are far too firm in their hatred of the Legion. They would never turn against Arthas until after the victory is won. You on the other hand…"

"Remain loyal to the Lich King," said Kel'thuzad. "Ner'zhul is displeased with how his former champion has used his dominions. He now desires them returned to the fold."

"Then it would seem we are here on a common purpose," said Balnazzar.

"Where is Varimathras?" asked Detheroc suddenly. "He should have been here by now?"

"Varimathras is dead, or so I suspect," said Kel'thuzad.

"What, impossible," said Detheroc.

"His armies were surrounded and cut down by Arthas with the assistance of Alexstrasza the Lifebinder," said Kel'thuzad. "I assume that Arthas found a quick and particularly painful end to your brother. He has no love for your kind. Quite the opposite."

Balnazzar shifted. They had underestimated the Death Knight, and now one of their number was dead. But Detheroc was not to be deterred. "…It is of no matter. We are the Nathrezim! We'll not let some human get the best of us!"

"It would seem to me that he already has," noted Kel'thuzad, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Even as we speak Arthas has gained new strength from the rebels in Varimathras' territory. Within a week he will stand poised to batter down the last defense. I assure you, the humans will much prefer him to you."

"What they prefer will no longer be relevant soon," said Balnazzar. "We need time to gather additional support, and that is all. Detheroc, I will go to Stratholme and prepare the city for a siege. You must ready your own forces and ensure that the enemy advance is halted." He paused. "Kel'thuzad?"

"We are not alone among the servants of the Lich King," said Kel'thuzad. "Unfortunately, Arthas has a reputation for invulnerability. His leadership inspires many of the lower-ranked cultists. No rebellion will be possible in these circumstances."

"Then what use can you be to us?" asked Detheroc.

"I will arrange for the buildup of troops to be slowed somewhat," said Kel'thuzad. "A few unfortunate setbacks in production should give you some breathing room. However, I must stress that Arthas may attack regardless."

"Let him." scoffed Detheroc. "Even as we speak, Lord Garithos is coming with his armies. My spell over him is nearly complete, and once he has entered my fortress, none will be able to pierce it."

"Then it would seem the situation is well in hand," said Balnazzar, wishing he believed it. "So long as we may delay Arthas, this hasty alliance he has built will soon falter. He cannot possibly keep the loyalty of all these factions indefinitely. Once it does, we may infiltrate, divide, and conquer as we always do.

"Varimathras will not have died in vain." He hoped he was right.

Arthas left behind him the creatures of the Tirisfal Glades. While they could be of further use, he did not want them to think he needed them. He wanted them to desire to be of use, but know they were not indispensable. So he had set forth with Dar'khan, Varimathras, Alexstrasza, and sent messages to his allies to meet him.

He knew they would not let him down. And they did not. Now Arthas' party looked down on the stronghold of Detheroc. The paladins and Kirin Tor were with them a little ways away. It was a heavily fortified city. One that had been completely burned out during the wars in Lordaeron before the coming of the Horde. A large segment of the city had been laid aside for empty buildings.

Detheroc was expecting guests.

"Is that the place?" asked Arthas.

"Yes, Detheroc's stronghold," said Varimathras. "He has spent long hours ensuring it is nearly impregnable, and soon it will be even more so. With the meager forces you've gathered here, an assault would be a lost cause."

"I have no hope for a direct assaults success," said Arthas honestly. The Alliance had sent only a token force, and his undead were half dreadlord loyalist. Any kind of assault would be a recipe for disaster.

"Then let's go before-"began Varimathras, turning to leave.

"Hold where you are, Dreadlord," said Arthas. "I have not yet given you leave. We wait."

Varimathras eyed him carefully. "For what?"

Arthas met his gaze and smiled, causing Varimathras to flinch. "You know as well as I."

Then, along the road beneath them, came a large contingent of Alliance forces. It was an entire legion of troops, bearing the emblem of Stormwind. At their head was Garithos on a horse. Their eyes were empty, and they seemed to shamble indecisively along the road.

"Lord Garithos… why are we coming out all… this way…?" asked a man.

"Silence fool!" said Garithos. "The voice… it calls us. And we must… must obey."

"Why have we… we not come into contact with the… undead?" asked another. "And why did all of us… have to leave Dalaran."

Arthas looked to Antonidas who was staring and smiled as a plan come fully together. "As promised, Lord Antonidas, Dalaran lies abandoned for you to take when you will. No doubt those that remain will be glad to accept you. You may do so with my blessing."

"I wonder if you deserve any credit for this at all," noted Antonidas.

Arthas shrugged. "I calculated that if I pressed Detheroc hard enough, he would panic. Then he would draw back Garithos to secure his own border." He looked to where Alexstrasza was peering down at Garithos. The soldiers were even now entering through the gates. Her red hair was flowing around her, and she looked very beautiful indeed. Moving to stand beside her, he found himself shifting nervously. "Queen Alexstrasza, what are your projections?"

Alexstrasza looked up. "It is a powerful spell, one long in the weaving. It was made by convincing those under it to indulge in hatred, greed, their worst impulses. The more they indulged in them, the more enslaved they became to Detheroc's will."

"Can you break it?" asked Arthas. If she said no, he'd have to rewrite his plans very quickly.

Alexstrasza nodded. "I have an innate connection to all living creatures, Arthas. With the assistance of both the paladins and the Kirin Tor, I believe so. We must inspire in them their best impulses, driving them to shake off Detheroc's control."

"Good. Once you do that, inspire them to open the gates once they attack the undead. Proceed at once, and send word to Dar'khan. Tell him that he will assault when the gates are opened."

Alexstrasza nodded and pushed her hair behind her head. She and Antonidas went to where the paladins were preparing the ritual she had created. Arthas watched silent as they began to chant. Soon three bright lights appeared one gold, one red, and one blue. They swirled together and rose into the sky as chanting began.

Arthas turned away and looked to the city. Varimathras was now behind him. "What are your plans now, Death Knight?"

Arthas decided not to answer the question directly. "Tell me, Varimathras, have you ever heard the tale of Menethil's horse?"

"No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me," said Varimathras in irritation.

"It's a story Detheroc could have learned from any cultist," said Arthas. "If he had, perhaps his fate might be less grim. Queen Calia Menethil I was the archenemy of King Strom Lothar. Their rivalry culminated in a ten-year siege of the capital city.

"It was an age of myth with many heroes on both sides. But in the end, a disease struck the attackers. Bitter and weary, they disappeared one night, and the city cheered. And all they left behind them was a great wooden horse, raised in tribute to the gods. We didn't worship the light in those days. But horses were always a symbol of Lordaeron, they held special significance. It was said that the life of the first horse a knight has foreshadows their own life."

"Charming," said Varimathras with obvious sarcasm. "But I hardly see what that has to do with the present situation."

"Well that day there was a great celebration, and Calia Menethil had the horse-drawn into the city," said Arthas. "There were vast celebrations around it the entire day in a great festival. Then, that night, when all the guards were asleep and drunk, the horse's belly opened."

At that moment there were horn calls from within the stronghold. The sound of fighting echoed throughout the streets. Screams and roars of battle echoed, the undead taken completely by surprise. The gates were flung open, and Dar'khan led his charge.

"Out came the greatest soldiers of King Strom. They crept through the city and slaughtered the gate guards. In came the armies of King Lothar. They killed everyone they found and only Queen Calia's son escaped by lowering a rope and sliding down the wall. The entire city was razed, and earth built up over it." Varimathras frowned. He looked like someone who had been listening to a horror story, only to get an unexpected happy ending. Then he turned to the city where the banner of the Legion was being torn down. "Until many years later, when a new city was built on top of it. And by digging deep enough, you can sometimes enter the passages of the old capital. That is why it is called the Undercity to this day.

"Ironic, isn't it?

"The very symbol of their triumph became the source of their ultimate destruction." Green mist arose behind them, and Arthas turned to the being he sensed. "Wouldn't you agree, Detheroc."

Detheroc was in chains and flanked by a number of elite undead. He was bleeding all over and looked to have been beaten. He stared at Varimathras with an open mouth for a moment then screamed. "Traitor! How could you betray us like this? We could have ruled this land together!"

"Arthas has greater strength than you know, brother. I'll take my chances with him," said Varimathras.

"Traitor?" asked Arthas. "Such an interesting word isn't it. And yet it can mean so many different things. I have a great deal of experience with traitors, Detheroc. In general, there are three kinds. Some betray their cause out of compulsion. Fear of death, mind control, hostages. These things compelled them to turn on what they held precious. They are to be pitied.

"Then there are those who betray out of ideology. They were unwilling to bend the knee to a Lord whose plans they considered wrong. So they cast aside all they had for ideals. These are to be admired.

"And last of all, there are those who betray for profit. Who sell out those who they owe loyalty to for the chance of greater benefit. They are to be held in contempt.

"We are all of us one of them. Every person in this room is a traitor to something. I wonder, Detheroc, which one are you?"

"None." snarled Detheroc. "I serve the Legion and them only."

"Good answer," said Arthas, respecting his defiance. "Wrong, though. Take him away."

Detheroc was brought out, struggling. For his part, Arthas and the main members of his company made their way through the open gates. Soon they came within sight of where Garithos' men were formed up in a great defensive square.

They trailed their guns at Arthas and his men as they approached. "Hold where you are, Garithos. You would do well to heed my offer."

"Arthas, what is the meaning of this?" asked Garithos.

"Your ambitions have failed, Garithos," said Arthas. "Dalaran has been retaken by the Kirin Tor. The Paladins have declared themselves neutral. And the Kingdom of Strahnbrad is your enemy. What fate would have awaited your glorious army were it not for my intervention."

"Get to the point, Death Knight!" snarled Garithos.

"I wish to off you an escape from the trap you've placed yourself in," said Arthas. "You can keep attempting to set yourself up as king and starve in the plaguelands. Or you can serve me and be awarded a rightful place in the new order.

"This decision is not one to take lightly."

Garithos shook with rage. "Serve you? You betrayed the Alliance! You betrayed humanity!"

"As did you," said Arthas. "I wonder, between the two of us who will they have an easier time hunting down? Join me, and I can offer you a position of power. Your only other alternative is to throw yourself a the mercy of the Alliance.

"We all know how they award their friends. I'd hate to think what they'd do to their enemies."

At this moment, Alexstrasza came forward. She swayed her hips as a soothing light emanated from her, overtaken the minds of all present. "Think of it, Garithos. If you assist us, you will be able redeem yourself. We may destroy the Dreadlords once and for all and free Lordaeron from their grip forever. And if you do not desire to remain in Arthas' service, then you may break with him after victory is achieved."

"Well, Garithos?" said Arthas, coming to stand beside her. "Make your choice."

Garithos looked to his men, then to Antonidas who looked on in silent fury. Finally, he gazed at the paladins whose eyes were doubtful. "…We will serve until the Dreadlords are destroyed. After that, I promise nothing."

"A wise decision," said Arthas. Then he activated a signal with a spell and turned to Antonidas. "Lord Antonidas, I'd like to make a recommendation for the Kirin Tor."

"Recommendation?" asked Antonidas, eyes suspicious.

"Yes, you are down several members," said Arthas as Kel'thuzad appeared beside him. "I believe it would be beneficial for all involved to appoint Kel'thuzad to a position on the Six. I will need someone to represent my interests, after all. Should any disagreements crop up, Kel'thuzad should smooth them out.

"Wouldn't you agree, gentlemen?" He gave them both a friendly smile.

Antonidas shifted, looking for a way out. But Arthas had him. Just like he had Garithos. If Antonidas defied him, Arthas now had a powerful human faction to contest his reign with. Whereas if Garithos defied him, the Alliance would be waiting with knives out. And if either one of them wanted to gain an advantage over the other, well, they'd best appease him.

"…I could see my way to arranging that appointment," said Antonidas.

"I have no more of a vendetta with the Lich than I do any of your other servants." snapped Garithos.

"Excellent," said Arthas. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Queen Alexstrasza and I have plans to make."

They moved away from the occupation. Their troops took hold of the equipment within the fortress while they climbed the walls. It had been days since Arthas had declared himself, less than a week. And yet he had very nearly reconquered Lordaeron. Now he just needed to keep ahead of his own allies.

Still, as the two of them stared out over the plaguelands, something bothered him. He looked to Alexstrasza, who shifted beneath his gaze. "Tell me, milady, why did you want me to take Detheroc prisoner? Varimathras I could understand, but Detheroc remains defiant."

"I've observed that these three Dreadlord's have a camaraderie of sorts," admitted Alexstrasza. "I am the Guardian of Life. If it is possible to redeem such a species, I must know it. And if redemption for them is possible, it must start somewhere.

"I regard it as gathering intelligence."

"Do you have any idea what these three have done?" asked Arthas.

Alexstrasza sighed bitterly. "More than you do, I think. But all races commit atrocities. While I would mark the Nathrezim species as a bit of a longshot, if they could be reformed, I would prefer it."

Arthas turned around and leaned against the crenelations, looking over his mustering host. "Regale me with these fantasies of yours, please."

"Well, you start small as with all things," said Alexstrasza, inching a bit closer. "Make it so they learn to value other members of their kind. Appeal to pragmatism. If their subordinates are happy working for them, they'll be less likely to betray them. If they fight in a manner that is considered moral, their enemies are less likely to unite against them.

"Once they are in the habit of behaving pragmatically that habit can become a moral code of sort. Eventually, they may follow it for the right reasons."

"And how is having them still alive beneficial to me?" asked Arthas.

Alexstrasza shrugged. "Well, they may be useful as hostages. Balnazzar is not in a strong position and if he thinks he can get out of this alive by surrendering, well, he just might. That would save us a great deal of hassle."

Arthas nodded. "That's all very well for you. I'm the one who will have to deal with the politic fallout for letting them live."

Alexstrasza gave him a winning smile. "Do you think killing them will actually improve your reputation?"

Arthas laughed despite himself. "…No, probably not."

"Well then, it would seem we don't have a problem as long as we can keep them under control," said Alexstrasza

Arthas rolled his eyes and waved his hand before her face. "Have fun with that, Alexstrasza. This time your flight can be the jailors, and I'll wash my hands of the whole nonsense."

Alexstrasza burst out laughing hysterically before looking at him warmly. "You're beginning to sound more like one of the Aspects by the day."

Arthas brought up a hand to cup her by the cheek. "Watch it, milady. I might take that as an invitation."

"Forward, aren't we?" asked Alexstrasza, pressing herself against him and returning the motion.

"Well, I've always been an aggressive general," said Arthas.

Then he kissed her. And she more than returned the embrace.

Author's Note:

AlexstraszaXArthas is a pairing I've never seen anyone seriously pursue. Which is a shame. One is a god of life, the other is a god of death. The whole opposites theme could make for some very interesting stories. It probably doesn't help that they are never in the same scene together.

I decided to experiment with it here since they're teaming up and everything.

Also, I decided to take the focus away from the battle itself. There are only so many times you can describe a melee, and I felt the effect was better this way. Enjoy.