Warcraft IV: War of Legends
Chapter 6: Fall of the Pack (Part 1)
Arthas had nothing to do during the long passage from Theramoore to Northrend. Jaina had to remain in special enchanted chains, lest she would use her more advanced magic to escape. The Lich King had realized in the five years since they joined together that he could not control the Scourge and a body at the same time. Instead, he granted Arthas' mind complete control over their body most of the time.
However, both had agreed upon this plan. The true beauty of this plan, Ner'zhul mused, was that humanity would be useless without perhaps the most intelligent leader of humans. Beyond that, Arthas had begun to remember those he had forsaken. He had ignored Muradin, betrayed Terenas, and slew Uther. The only threat the Alliance still held was now in chains, and would soon serve the Scourge the same way Arthas would.
With the death of the Kirin Tor, Jaina had become the most powerful sorceress in the world, her powers matching the long-dead Antonidas all those years ago. Now, five years later, she had only grown stronger. The thoughts of forcing Jaina to serve the Scourge would have excited Ner'zhul, but the ship suddenly smashed into the shore.
Cursing, Ner'zhul spread his mind to the captain of the ship. With the new Undead from Theramoore, he had many crew members on board. He reached out to their minds, but to no avail. The corpses would serve him if they could, but without the magics of the Plague, they quickly succumbed to Rigor Mortis. His power had been more focused upon capturing Jaina, and so had not fully corrupted those now on board. He raced to the top of the ship to find that the other Undead ship still followed him. As he went ashore, he contacted the acolyte on on the other ship and told them to make a base on the shore.
The Necropolis slowly formed. When completed, the blight infested the land. This did not go unnoticed by a Druid of the Pack who had been dispatched early, watching for a sign of the Scourge. He turned and ran from the growing blight, as fast as he could. He saw the shade following him only briefly, but it was enough. He used his Dust of Appearance and found a single shade. As he was preparing to strike it down, he realized that it was different from those that served the first Undead base he had sighted. He went back to his base to confirm his suspicions: There were two Undead bases nearby.
"Damnit! Where is Ma... Malfurion?" He was surrounded by other Night Elves, but was still partially blinded by the sunlight coming down a nearby hill. A magnificent figure with antlers had appeared. The others turned as well, hoping to Elune that it was truly the Arch Druid. To their dismay, it was only a Keeper of the Grove. Though Cenarius had been a worshipped Demigod, his children were not worshipped at all. True, they were looked up to, but none could compare to the son of Elune and Malorne.
When the Druids of the Pack had been formed, they had to understand that Ysera was the true mother of Cenarius. All had to get into their heads the concept that Elune the Night Elven Moon Goddess was, in fact, Ysera. This was a primary belief to them, as the moon was their totem. As such, they needed to understand the exsistence of all creatures. Where some druids were scouts and supporters, the Druids of the Pack were negotiators who loved life and could endure even the most harsh of conditions to find allies in their fights. Since there was no well-known Wolf Demigod, they looked to Elune herself, as well as Malorne. They respected the power of the Stag, though they refused to think of taking such a form. Though they once insisted that Malorne's remains should be buried beneath Mount Hyjal, his corpse, divine though it was, had decayed too much for it to be moved. However, where he had died was blasted beneath the sea, and few really dared to go to the bottom of the sea just for some bones, holy as they may be.
Regardless of his lineage, no Keeper of the Grove compared to Malfurion. Brothers to the Dryads and cousins of the cursed Centaurs, they appeared more natural to the Night Elves as time went on. They were as normal as the Priestesses of the Moon, though less common. However, it was always good when one joined an army. "Greetings, honored son of Cenarius. I am Aquinar Flamebringer. Have you joined us to repel the Scourge?"
The massive figure nodded. "Indeed I have, Aquinar! However, I am in shock that you regocnized me so easily! Many mistake me for my children, as they once did to my brother as well!"
At this, all the Night Elves silently rejoiced. This was one of the two children of Cenarius: The Keepers of the Grove and Dryads were truly the sons of the one who stood before him, who was himself sired by the Demigod. It was his brother, Zaetar, who had sired the Centaurs with the Earth Princess. Though most Keepers of the Grove were truly the grandchildren of Cenarius, here stood Remolus!
A single banshee was shocked. During the invasion of Quel'Thalas, she had been a historian. Now, before her stood a legend of his own right. She envied his body, that which she had not possessed since she was slain by Arthas. However, she would have preffered a female body, one more similar to her original. She snuck into the base, thinking she was unnoticed, and possessed a lone archer. At once, a figure appeared and struck her down. Three more banshees were scouting the base, and all wished for a body as well. None saw the archer being struck down, so they slowly hunted three huntresses. One was waiting for the other two to prepare everything, and so was spared. When the first one entered her new body, she was slain swiftly. The second was immobile long enough to be slain without even entering the Night Elf. The third, afraid, started to escape back to the base of the Dark Lady, Sylvanas.
To be continued...