"My lords," said a necromancer, "we've sighted another army."
"What?" Mephistroth and Anetheron spun around. They had not noticed the mage approaching.
"I said, we've sighted another army."
"We heard you," Anetheron said exasperatedly. "Where would Illidan have gotten an army?"
"Maybe he is with the other elves after all," Mephistroth said. "Although I don't understand what they're doing away from Hyjal at a time like this."
"Saving Illidan's hide, no doubt. Where were they sighted, human?"
"East, behind us." As an afterthought, he added, "And they're demons, not elves."
"What are demons doing helping Illidan?" Anetheron asked.
"I don't think they're Illidan's," Mephistroth said. "Archimonde and Kil'jaeden are probably at odds again, and Archimonde must have figured out we're working for his brother."
"So what do we do?" Anetheron asked, eyeing the necromancer, who was obviously awaiting orders.
"We wait," Mephistroth replied. "Illidan is still out in the forest somewhere, and Arthas is going to find him for us. We don't have to worry about the Legion just yet; we had trouble enough getting through the damn forest, so I imagine they'll have the same problems."
Azgalor wiped the sweat from his forehead. They had been marching for at least a half an hour, and they had finally come to a stop. Ahead lay the foothills, the swamps, where Arthas and his dissenters lurked. Azgalor didn't know if Ner'zhul had ordered the death knight to abandon his post or if the boy had done so on his own, but killing him and his followers would certainly boost Azgalor's standing with Archimonde – or Kil'jaeden, whichever one was going to be left standing after Hyjal fell. Deep down, Azgalor really didn't care who ran the Legion, so long as that person left a place near the top for Azgalor. The Pit Lord wasn't smart enough to be in charge of everything, and he knew it – but he was smart enough to make himself a favorite of whoever was.
He did have one problem, however. His quarry lay somewhere within the tangled forest ahead, and Azgalor had gone a wee bit overboard when he had rallied his force. Archimonde had merely wanted him to round up the Scourge and bring them back, but Azgalor had something different in mind – he planned to slaughter them all. He had therefore summoned up a veritable army of demon-kind rather than the small troupe of infernals Archimonde had ordered. The Eredar would probably never notice the difference, for the Legion had literally millions of violent souls at its disposal. Azgalor would find the undead, run them through, and then claim they had resisted him. It was pure genius, he had thought then. Now he wasn't so sure.
When he had rallied his force, he hadn't counted on the constricting labyrinth of the forest. He couldn't hope to squeeze an army this huge through the narrow forest paths; how the Scourge had managed such a feat baffled him. Unless the undead decided to simply give themselves up, it looked like Azgalor had very little to show for his troubles.
"Thisss one thinksss you ssshould burn the foressst down," said a voice. Azgalor turned all the way around, which was no easy task for the elephantine Pit Lord.
"Who are you?" he said to the nearby lich who had obviously just spoken.
"Thisss one isss called Araj," the lich replied coolly.
"Araj, you say?" Azgalor didn't remember seeing the lich during the march, but then, he was traveling with fifty thousand troops, after all, and there wasn't much room in the Pit Lord's head for names and faces. "What was it you were saying, Araj?"
"Thisss one wasss jussst sssaying that you ssshould burn the foressst down," the lich answered.
"Now why would I do a thing like that?" Azgalor demanded.
"Becaussse you seemed to be having trouble sssqueesssing the Legion through the foressst," said the lich.
"And just what would you know about my troubles?" Azgalor narrowed his eyes in an effort to appear imposing, but it probably just made him look sick.
"Pleassse, Lord," the lich said in mock surrender, "thisss one wasss jussst offering hisss advissse."
"Well, don't do it again," Azgalor mumbled absently. His thickly padded demon brain had finally registered the lich's original comment, and it was sinking in. "Of course," he murmured, "then we wouldn't have any trouble at all..."
"Lich," he commanded loudly, stopping the retreating Araj in his tracks, "tell the troops to set the forest on fire. Then we won't have any trouble."
The lich let out an inaudible snicker. "Of courssse, massster..."
"Lords," the necromancer said.
"You again?" said Mephistroth.
"What is it now?" Anetheron asked with annoyance.
"I just thought you should know," said the necromancer, "that the Legion is burning the forest down."
"They're what?" Mephistroth was dumbfounded.
"Now why would they do a thing like that?" Anetheron wondered aloud.
"Well," said the necromancer, "you have to admit, it does make it easy for a large army like theirs – or ours – to navigate the area."
There was a pause as this sunk in.
"Now, then," Mephistroth said slowly, "why didn't we think of that?"
Illidan was wide awake. Noise filled the forest; there was a huge disturbance somewhere out of sight. Animals were fleeing in all directions. Balancing adeptly on a low-hanging tree limb, the elf leaned forward, searching with his mind for the source of the disturbance—
A gloved hand grabbed his leg and dragged him from the branch. He had no time to unsheathe his blades; blindly, he kicked out at his attacker. Surprised, the unknown assailant crashed backwards, away from the tree, landing on its back with a muffled 'oof!' Illidan landed on his toes and immediately bared his weapons, holding them towards the attacker in a defensive stance. In his mind's eye, he looked for the assailant's face—
"Arthas?" the elf said in surprise. "What are you doing back here?"
"Helping you leave," the death knight said, as Illidan lowered his blades and stepped closer. "Could you give me a hand up?"
Illidan paused. The human had helped him before in claiming the Skull of Gul'dan, had shown him the Skull in the first place, but that didn't mean he was to be trusted. The Prince had betrayed his whole kingdom, after all, for the vile powers of the Scourge, and that was not something to be done lightly. Then again, honor could still be shown to the honorless. No matter what path the death knight chose, Illidan could still be kind to him, or at least fair.
And besides, Illidan said to himself, I can defend myself well enough if he tries anything dishonorable. He extended his hand to the prince, and Arthas took it and pulled himself up.
"Ah, thank you," he said, dusting off his cloak and parka. "You know that Kil'jaeden is looking for you," he said quietly.
"Yes, I know," Illidan answered. "I rather thought you were helping him, since you seem to be traveling with two dreadlords."
"Oh, not at all," Arthas explained. "They seem to be under the impression that they're in charge of me, so I figure it doesn't help things to tell them otherwise."
Illidan did not smile. "What did you mean, help me leave?"
"Well, you did plan on trying to escape them, right? I mean, it wouldn't do to let them kill you, now would it?"
"A true warrior does not run from his foes," Illidan retorted icily.
"He does if he wants to beat them someday," said Arthas.
"What's all the noise?" Illidan said suddenly. He had been distracted by the unorthodoxy of the death knight's entrance, but now it seemed that the situation was not hostile, and the elf's previous train of thought was coming back to him. "What is causing this disturbance?"
"Oh, the Legion is trying to burn the forest down," Arthas said casually.
"Now why would they do that?"
"I had somebody tell them to. Demons are real big on burning things, and not real big on creativity. This probably sounded like a great idea when they heard it." Arthas looked up at the elf, who towered over him by nearly a full head. "Listen, Illidan. I know we're not the closest of friends, but I really do want to help you out of this mess, and as much as I like your company, I don't have a lot of time. Are you going to let me get you out of here, or not?"
"I'm sorry, Arthas. I will not flee."
"Suit yourself," Arthas said. He shrugged and turned away.
The demon hunter collapsed suddenly. Arthas turned back around.
"Morte, what did you do?" A second death knight was hunched over the demon hunter's unconscious form, his runesword unsheathed.
"Relax, I just nicked him. He'll live." The knight sheathed his weapon.
"Good. Now, grab his ankles, and I'll get his arms." They did so. "I've got a use for you yet, Illidan."