The darkness faded as the fingers of dawning light reached beyond the hills.
As the blanket of the night lifted, the devastation done during the last battle in the Kaldorei outpost became apparent. The blackness disappeared to reveal the dark smoke that was oozing out from the small, burning stumps that were all that remained of the Night Elf Ancients. The only Kaldorei building that was left standing was the Hunters' Hall, but even that was under the constant attack of a group of meat wagons flinging dead corpses at the vital structures. One of those corrupt missiles broke the supporting beams, and the last reminder of the Night Elf defense against Northrend collapsed.
All around in the forest, the ghouls and abominations were chasing the scattered elvish troops. As the night faded, so did the natural Kaldorei ability to Shadowmeld. Thus after the first glow of the sun, it became much easier for the Undead to search out for the hidden female Night Elves. Those who were not killed were bounded up and brought back to the now completely obliterated base, where they were forced to sit around the Undead Commander.
Lord Algammon Venger of Northrend smiled as more and more of the Night elves were brought before him. He paced around the captured Kaldorei, his red eyes surveying their feminine faces, which were all twisted with fright and hatred. Those closest to the Nathrezim turned away, not willing to face the evil predator that was trying to pick out his prey. At last, Algammon stopped and kneeled in front of an archer, who pushed herself backwards into her sisters in an attempt to distance herself from the Dreadlord. The Undead Commander grabbed the elf by the neck and snarled, opening his mouth and revealing his long, sharp incisors. Those he sank into the tender flesh on the neck of the archer. The Night Elf winced with pain as the blood oozed out of the wound, and she let out a muffled cry through her gagged mouth.
The Dreadlord smiled as much as he could as he sucked the satisfying blood. To him, there was little better than to drain the red liquid of life out of a being, especially from a maiden who was struggling to get free. The nearby Kaldorei elves all reeled away from the demon as they looked at him in disgust, but Algammon did not care. In fact, he enjoyed the helplessness and anger. If there was anything more fulfilling than blood, it was this: the ability to push around people when they were unable to resist, no matter how much they wanted to. This mixed feeling of power and supremacy was always satisfying to his sick, corrupted heart.
Had he been able to, Algammon would like to drink the life out of this archer. However, he had reasons to keep the female Night Elf alive, reasons he could not afford to ignore. Thus he stopped after a minute or so, and got back onto his feet.
All around him the Undead were running around as they salvaged what they could from the remnants of what had been a Kaldorei base. The ghouls pushed over the burnt columns and dug up foundations before they heaved the wood over their shoulders, taking the plentiful but useful lumber back to the Undead base. Not afar, the necromancers carried the corpses and put them into the coffins on the meat wagons, which were designed to carry such revolting cargo for later use.
However, some of them were specially designed to carry living cargo.
"My lord," a necromancer approached. "The meat wagons are ready."
"Good," the Undead Commander replied. He pointed to the line of elves sitting in front of him. "Take these up to the wagons. Give them the best you can, for Lord Baron would like them to be fresh and healthy when they arrive in his territory."
"Aye, milord," the necromancer acknowledged as he walked off to pass on the order.
"Milord," another ghoul walked up to the Dreadlord. "Corpses… searched… Warden… not there," he said in his husky voice. "Gone... see… abominations."
Algammon nodded, comprehending the ghoul's fragment report. "So the Warden managed to escape…" he thought to himself. He smiled. There was only one thing to do.
"Send out teams to hunt for her," he ordered. "Our victory here must be complete."
The ghoul nodded a few times quickly, almost like a cartoon character, but did not comply to the command. Algammon raised one of his bare ridges over his eyes.
"You have something to add?" the Undead Commander asked.
"Yes… milord… addition… report… more…"
***
Algammon, son of Luthius, leaned on the trunk of the nearby tree as he panted to catch his breathe.
It had been a long time since they realized that the undead were no longer after them and stopped to have a rest. Ever since they left the carnage at the base, the good Nathrezim had been running with the purple-skinned girl, who just then told him that her name was Alicia. She, likewise, had her back leaning on the foot of another tree, her hand clutching her heaving bosom as she breathed as quickly as her lungs could.
Now with the danger passed, Algammon could have his mind pondering on himself again. He learnt that he was in a land named Kalimdor, which was situated in a world called Azeroth by its inhabitants, but that was hardly enough. He still had no in-depth knowledge about the cosmos he was in, let alone the means to leave it. The foster son of Luthius had no idea about who lived in this place, their history…
Most of all, Algammon had no idea how was he going to help theses purple-skinned people.
Now that he had interfered, Algammon knew that the way back to the pocket cosmos would have to wait, especially when he realized the full potential of his power and the dangers these people seemed to be facing. He knew little about those monsters, but it was pretty obvious to him that they were not here for any friendly diplomatic business. Algammon also knew that he would require the help of the inhabitants if he was to return home, and they, especially Alicia, would request his help. Even otherwise, Algammon would never forgive himself if he now just walked away.
His reverie broke when the maiden warrior stumped forward. Algammon rushed to her side and caught her before she fell.
"Are you alright?" he asked and stared into her black eyes.
The woman smiled weakly. "I am fine…" her soft voice replied. "Just… slightly exhausted." Algammon let out a sigh of relief.
As the Dreadlord helped her to her feet, his sharp ears caught a rustle of leaves. He quickly turned, and five small skeletons jumped out from the bush, waving their sharp claws on their hands. Algammon gave out a small sigh as he let the warm qi flow from his abdomen to his fists. The little monsters lunged, their claws slashing, but Algammon was much faster. He side-stepped the first attack, his Swinging Fists landed on the skull, crushing through the bone. As his first opponent fell, Algammon turned around and swung his fists upwards in the upward version of the Swinging Fists, his blows crashing through ribs. The remaining two hesitated as their comrades fell, and then turned around and fled. Algammon let out a small breath and let the qi in his hands disperse throughout his body.
Alicia let out a weak smile. "After all that running, you still have the stamina to fight…"
"Well, that's the advantage of knowing how to use qi," Algammon turned and grinned.
"Qi?"
"Yep," Algammon nodded. "It is sort of like a life force, energy of the living…"
Alicia furrowed her brows. "I thought that Dreadlords are Undead…"
"Undead?" Algammon asked. Alicia nodded.
"That's what those guys are," she motioned her head towards the black patch of blood on the trunk. "Specifically, those were the ghouls, one type of the lackeys created by the Lich King."
"Hum… right," Algammon acknowledged. Countless novels on his shelf were about animated corpses that rose of the graves, but he knew them to be stories. Some of them were great arts of literature, but stories nevertheless. Apparently, in this cosmos, liches and ghouls were very real.
"Well, at least I can say that I don't feel like an Undead. I breath and… feel very much alive, in fact. " Algammon's brows furrowed. He never knew that the Nathrezim were able to rise from their graves after their deaths. He would have to ask Xiburg when he met him again. Speaking of Xiburg, Algammon suddenly felt all alone; helpless in this world he was trapped in.
"Er…" Alicia opened her mouth, breaking Algammon's reverie. He realized that he had not told her his name yet.
"The name is Algammon," he replied.
"Algammon?" Alicia asked. She turned away and muttered something under her breath.
"Pardon?"
"Oh, nothing," Alicia turned back to him. She thought for a moment, then replied, "Just… what do you suppose we do now?"
Algammon let out a small sigh of frustration. "So she had been hesitating again…" he thought to himself. "Just like back in the outpost." He shook his head in disapproval. "How on Earth did she manage to become a leader?" He could hardly believe that there were such hesitating leaders. But then, he knew that on Earth, there were dozens opportunities lost due to hesitation…
"Well, you are the one who lives here," he shrugged. There was no need to reveal the frustration in the open. "And you are the leader of the… um, your people."
"Well, not exactly," Alicia replied. "I am only a leader of the outpost, and now that it is destroyed…"
"Then we must tell the other… outposts," Algammon interrupted, then realized that he had been rude. However, there could not be any more delays. In wars, time was life. "Tell them what happened, and see if they can help."
"Ah… yeah, right," Alicia replied. "This way."
***
"Are you very sure about this?" Lord Algammon Venger of Northrend asked the ghoul beside him as the nearby elves, one by one, were forced into the meat wagons. Out of habit his eyes stared coldly at the little Undead soldier, as if trying to remind it of the consequences of lying to the Commander. At the back of his head, though, the Undead Commander knew perfectly well that ghouls were the mindless soldiers of the Scourge, and would never be disloyal to him.
The ghoul nodded again. "Seen Dreadlord… me… him powerful… killed squadron… one strike…"
Algammon narrowed his eyes. His intelligence network never informed him that there was a Dreadlord amongst the Kaldorei forces, especially one of such power. Was he a spy from Ner'zhul? Algammon discarded thought. A Dreadlord would hardly mix in with the Kaldorei. Besides, he never heard of any Nathrezim, or anyone for that matter, that could wipe out an abomination with one strike. It was very probable that this Dreadlord was one of the powerful Legion soldiers left behind after the Third War. That, though, still did not answer the question as to why he was helping those Night Elves. Out of a sudden, the demon realized that this Dreadlord was more important to him than the Warden. She would not get far. Anyway, his army was pouring into the Kalimdor lands through this gap and slaughtering male Kaldorei and capturing others.
"Interesting," the Undead Commander thought to himself, amused. "I must have this Nathrezim in my hands and see for myself."
Author's note: Many thanks to J. Kae (spelling?), who has been patiently waiting for my slow chapters