WarCraft: Outbreak (Version 1.4)
Prologue
The man sat in darkness, enjoying the feel of the cool night air as it played over his skin. He shifted in his heavy robes. An assortment of rings and charms were on his fingers and wrists, jangling as they struck one another. The jewelry betrayed the man's identity as a wizard of some sort, but his cracked and pitted skin spoke of something more than the advanced age the man clearly possessed.
Fingers ran along strong but wizened arms, the man relishing the feel of power coursing through his veins. He gazed at the star-dusted sky, sensing the faint energy of the cosmos and the mysteries they hid. In the past, he'd considered them unreachable, those mysteries beyond his ability to plumb.
That had all changed, though, when he'd heard the Call. He'd been so simple, so petty, before It had shown him just how narrow his own horizons had been. His Master had opened the door to true power for him, a door whose existence he had only begun to realize and had thought unattainable. How far he could continue opening that door and how fast he could slip through was up to him.
He could feel his Master's presence even now, a comforting tingle at the base of his skull. Before the Call, he'd been shunned by his peers for trying to better himself. Now, he was never alone - always in the company of one who not only agreed with his views, but encouraged and aided him in his quest.
Adept...
Kel'Thuzad jerked, clutching his chest as a jolt of pain ran through him. "Don't do that," he snapped, as the forest he'd been resting in melted into darkness, an inky black that surrounded the necromancer, cool and comforting. "I may not need my heart anymore," he said, softening his tone, "but that does not mean I need ye shocking me like that."
Cold laughter filled the darkness surrounding him. I had no idea you were so... fragile, Adept.
"That is of no import," Kel'Thuzad said, brushing imaginary dust off his robes, trying to appear calm. "What do you want of me, Master? Has the latest cauldron been delivered?"
Yes, the voice said, the black rippling around the necromancer. It is the last one. Take it to Andorhal and put it on the grain shipment headed for Durasbrad.
"I understand, Master. "He waited for the black to fade away, to be replaced by the forest he'd been resting in.
Nothing happened.
Growing impatient, Kel'Thuzad crossed his arms and said, "is there anything else, Master? I would like to reach Andorhal by dawn, so as to get an early start."
Patience...
The necromancer sighed and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.
"Master?" he called out, not really expecting a response. "What is going on?"
The voice returned almost ten minutes later, sounding intrigued. I have some interesting information for you, Adept. A challenge, as well.
"A challenge?" Kel"Thuzad thought for a moment. He had never been challenged in his former life, everything coming to him easily. The Call had promised that it would provide him with real challenges, ones that would truly test his power and increase it as he defeated them.
His Master had held true to that promise.
"What kind of a challenge?" Kel'Thuzad asked.
Your former colleagues in the Violet Citadel have begun to notice your movements, as have the Knights of the Silver Hand, Adept...
Kel'Thuzad's lips pulled back, twisting his face into a sneer. "Antonidas," he muttered. "And that pious fool, the Lightbringer. How much do they know?"
Enough to be suspicious, the voice said. The Lightbringer will send a detachment of men to Durasbrad, to allay his fears. You are to wipe out that detachment before it reaches the northern coast.
"Simple enough..."
Kel'Thuzad steeped his fingers, resting his chin on them. "And what shall my peers in the Kirin Tor do? Send a few mages to 'investigate' as they did during the Second War, sending good men to their deaths?"
The necromancer's unseen Master laughed. No. Antonidas, at the least, is no fool. They will send three Danai to stop you.
Kel'Thuzad stiffened. "They suspect how serious the situation is becoming for them, then," he said. Then realization hit him. "Wait. Three Danai? Master, you know how powerful one Dana is. Is the Scourge powerful enough to stop three of them at this point?"
You stop the Lightbringer's force, his Master said. The black around Kel'Thuzad slowly began to dissolve back into the dark forest. I will deal with your Night Stalkers...
Hooded figures came running out of the trees and surrounded the necromancer. Dead eyes stared at the necromancer, surrounded by ashen, gray skin.
"What knowledge has the Lord imparted upon ye, Master?" one of them asked. "We yearn to know. Also... the cauldron has arrived."
Kel'Thuzad ignored him. "We leave for Andorhal, now," he said. "The plague shall reach Durasbrad by noon."
Drawing his cloak tightly around him, the necromancer shivered. No matter what his Master said, all that he could think of was that the Danai would soon arrive in the northlands of Lordaeron. He had not even heard of the shadowy group until his thirtieth year in the Kirin Tor, and had not become involved in their operations until his fortieth. It was rumored that they'd not lost a single man during hundreds of missions during the Second War. All of them solo.
And now three of them were coming. How could the Scourge defeat such a force, when it was still in its infancy?
The Lich King had said he would handle the Danai. It remained to be seen if he could.
Prologue
The man sat in darkness, enjoying the feel of the cool night air as it played over his skin. He shifted in his heavy robes. An assortment of rings and charms were on his fingers and wrists, jangling as they struck one another. The jewelry betrayed the man's identity as a wizard of some sort, but his cracked and pitted skin spoke of something more than the advanced age the man clearly possessed.
Fingers ran along strong but wizened arms, the man relishing the feel of power coursing through his veins. He gazed at the star-dusted sky, sensing the faint energy of the cosmos and the mysteries they hid. In the past, he'd considered them unreachable, those mysteries beyond his ability to plumb.
That had all changed, though, when he'd heard the Call. He'd been so simple, so petty, before It had shown him just how narrow his own horizons had been. His Master had opened the door to true power for him, a door whose existence he had only begun to realize and had thought unattainable. How far he could continue opening that door and how fast he could slip through was up to him.
He could feel his Master's presence even now, a comforting tingle at the base of his skull. Before the Call, he'd been shunned by his peers for trying to better himself. Now, he was never alone - always in the company of one who not only agreed with his views, but encouraged and aided him in his quest.
Adept...
Kel'Thuzad jerked, clutching his chest as a jolt of pain ran through him. "Don't do that," he snapped, as the forest he'd been resting in melted into darkness, an inky black that surrounded the necromancer, cool and comforting. "I may not need my heart anymore," he said, softening his tone, "but that does not mean I need ye shocking me like that."
Cold laughter filled the darkness surrounding him. I had no idea you were so... fragile, Adept.
"That is of no import," Kel'Thuzad said, brushing imaginary dust off his robes, trying to appear calm. "What do you want of me, Master? Has the latest cauldron been delivered?"
Yes, the voice said, the black rippling around the necromancer. It is the last one. Take it to Andorhal and put it on the grain shipment headed for Durasbrad.
"I understand, Master. "He waited for the black to fade away, to be replaced by the forest he'd been resting in.
Nothing happened.
Growing impatient, Kel'Thuzad crossed his arms and said, "is there anything else, Master? I would like to reach Andorhal by dawn, so as to get an early start."
Patience...
The necromancer sighed and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.
"Master?" he called out, not really expecting a response. "What is going on?"
The voice returned almost ten minutes later, sounding intrigued. I have some interesting information for you, Adept. A challenge, as well.
"A challenge?" Kel"Thuzad thought for a moment. He had never been challenged in his former life, everything coming to him easily. The Call had promised that it would provide him with real challenges, ones that would truly test his power and increase it as he defeated them.
His Master had held true to that promise.
"What kind of a challenge?" Kel'Thuzad asked.
Your former colleagues in the Violet Citadel have begun to notice your movements, as have the Knights of the Silver Hand, Adept...
Kel'Thuzad's lips pulled back, twisting his face into a sneer. "Antonidas," he muttered. "And that pious fool, the Lightbringer. How much do they know?"
Enough to be suspicious, the voice said. The Lightbringer will send a detachment of men to Durasbrad, to allay his fears. You are to wipe out that detachment before it reaches the northern coast.
"Simple enough..."
Kel'Thuzad steeped his fingers, resting his chin on them. "And what shall my peers in the Kirin Tor do? Send a few mages to 'investigate' as they did during the Second War, sending good men to their deaths?"
The necromancer's unseen Master laughed. No. Antonidas, at the least, is no fool. They will send three Danai to stop you.
Kel'Thuzad stiffened. "They suspect how serious the situation is becoming for them, then," he said. Then realization hit him. "Wait. Three Danai? Master, you know how powerful one Dana is. Is the Scourge powerful enough to stop three of them at this point?"
You stop the Lightbringer's force, his Master said. The black around Kel'Thuzad slowly began to dissolve back into the dark forest. I will deal with your Night Stalkers...
Hooded figures came running out of the trees and surrounded the necromancer. Dead eyes stared at the necromancer, surrounded by ashen, gray skin.
"What knowledge has the Lord imparted upon ye, Master?" one of them asked. "We yearn to know. Also... the cauldron has arrived."
Kel'Thuzad ignored him. "We leave for Andorhal, now," he said. "The plague shall reach Durasbrad by noon."
Drawing his cloak tightly around him, the necromancer shivered. No matter what his Master said, all that he could think of was that the Danai would soon arrive in the northlands of Lordaeron. He had not even heard of the shadowy group until his thirtieth year in the Kirin Tor, and had not become involved in their operations until his fortieth. It was rumored that they'd not lost a single man during hundreds of missions during the Second War. All of them solo.
And now three of them were coming. How could the Scourge defeat such a force, when it was still in its infancy?
The Lich King had said he would handle the Danai. It remained to be seen if he could.