CHAPTER 2
The Early Bird Gets the Frost Wyrm
Mira Shadewither approached the Plaguelands with much contempt, happy to be home and away from the wretched mountains and the Scourge. With a quick nudge to her mount the gargoyle soared down from the skies and landed just outside Queen Sylvanas's "palace." Mira patted the gargoyle on the head and watched as it flew to the top of the palace and began to transform. Within mere seconds of the landing the creature turned to stone and remained motionless, ever watching over the area and waiting to be called again.
The doors to Sylvanas's throne room opened and Mira nodded to the two ghouls standing guard with spears. The Queen stood over a table with a map on it surrounded by military advisors. Nearest her was the demon Detheroc, a Dreadlord, as his species were called. The demon looked like a bulky vampire complete with bat-like wings and baring fangs. Mira had never trusted the demon but Sylvanas was sure that she had scared the demon into absolute loyalty. At the sight of Mira she stopped what she was doing and turned to face the Dark Ranger. "What news?" the Queen asked. Mira bowed slightly.
"Attempts to come to an agreement failed and we were ambushed by the Death Knight and his forces," Mira explained, "I'm the only survivor."
"No doubt Arthas has truly become insane after merging with the Lich King," Sylvanas said, "it seems our only chance at bringing peace is to put an end to his evil reign once and for all." The Queen moved to the side to allow the Dark Ranger to get a full view of the map in front of her. She pointed to a picture of an enormous tower made of ice in the mountains. "The Frozen Throne," she explained, "the heart of the Scourge and where Arthas sits and plots his evil."
"We are to strike here?" Mira asked.
"The only thing Arthas understands anymore is raw power, we must show the Scourge that we, not them are the only race of the undead that truly deserve a second life" Queen Sylvanas proclaimed.
"Then I will set the plans into motion my liege" Mira said, bowing once again and casting a distrusting glance at Detheroc before leaving the throne room.
Baron Bloodbane silently made his way up the seemingly endless spiral pathway that led to the top of the Icecrown glacier. His cape whipped in the wind as he made his way up and he wondered what the Lich King would think of the girls escape. As the Frozen Throne came into view Bloodbane eyed his master. Since Arthas and Ner'Zhul had become one the Lich King had become a far more imposing figure than either of them alone. His long snow white hair flowed from under his frozen helmet and waved in a similar fashion to the Baron's cape. The Lich King's eyes immediately met those of his servant and kept a penetrating gaze as Bloodbane approached.
"My master" Bloodbane said as he bowed before the leader of the Scourge.
"Baron" the Lich King said in a voice that sounded both like the former prince and shaman orc. "What news do you bring?"
"The ambush failed, the Ranger escaped" the Baron explained.
"You do not prove yourself worthy," the Lich King said, "but I may be willing to give you a second chance."
"Please my king, I would do anything" Bloodbane said, still bowing.
"The Forsaken seek to strike soon and try to cast me from my throne," the Lich King began, "my spies say that an enormous force moves from the Plaguelands. I instructed Kel'Thuzad to cut them off but I'm afraid his forces won't be enough, we have to be prepared to face them. I want you to amass an army to stop them before they reach here, do you understand?"
The Baron nodded. "Of course my king, but I do have one request" the Death Knight said, taking the risk that his comment would offend his master.
"What is it my slave?" the Lich King asked.
"The foul girl slew my steed in an attempt to do away with me. I think it would be much easier for me to perform the task you request if I were given another" Bloodbane said.
The Lich King remained silent for a second before covering himself in a blue aura. Baron Bloodbane fell to his knees at the sight of his master's power, not knowing what the Lich King was prepared to do. He might just execute him on the spot for delaying his task any further. Then the aura slithered off of the King of the Scourge and formed a small orb of power before the Baron. "The Orb of Ner'Zhul, it grants the power of reanimation. Use it to supply yourself with the beast you request. But remember this, if you are to command an army you and your steed must represent the power you wield against your enemy" the king said.
Bloodbane rose up and bowed one final time in understanding before greedily grabbing the orb. As his fingers closed around it he felt the great power surge through his body, truly this was a most impressive gift from his master. He couldn't let him down now.
A few hours later the Death Knight approached a cliff in the mountains, a place he had been searching for now for far too long. In front of him was an enormous crater in the side of a nearby mountain face. He pulled the Orb of Ner'Zhul from his pack he had brought and held it in the air. Then he began to mutter words of power. The orb crackled to life, sparking as magic danced in a silhouette around it. Then, as the Death Knight finished the incantation the magic formed into a bolt of pure necromantic energy and surged into the face of the mountain. The magic seeped through the snow and disappeared. Then all was silent.
Baron Bloodbane opened his pupil-less eyes as the snow began to shift. Then, in an explosion of movement a creature of great power came to life. Huge wings stretched through the snow and pierced the air, followed by a tail of pure bone that whipped from side to side to uncover the main body. Finally, with a roar that sent shivers down the Death Knight the snow parted to the side and revealed the frost wyrm. Its eyes glowed a lime green and it bared teeth that could do horrendous damage to even the toughest hide. Dragons from all around the world had come to Northrend to die and the Scourge intended to use them against their enemies. The undead beast stretched its draconic neck down to Bloodbane, giving in to the power of the orb.
The Death Knight had been truly rewarded by his master. With a quick spring the Baron planted himself between the wyrm's wing joints and put his feet in between two rib bones to hold on as the frost wyrm began flapping its wings. The power of the orb granted the beast a freedom it hadn't had in centuries, the freedom of flight and the beast embraced it with open arms. In an instant the Death Knight was gazing down on the mountains of the frozen land below him and with each flap of the undead wings miles disappeared. A minute later the frost wyrm descended down to the Icecrown and Baron Bloodbane found a legion of the undead waiting for him. As far as his eyes could see ghouls and abominations, necromancers and banshees, even gargoyles and other wyrms all awaited his word to slaughter the betrayers.
It was a power even greater then that which the orb had granted him and for the first time since he'd pledged himself to the Lich King a slight smile found its way to his lips. Surely all would bow before the might of the Scourge. With a simple gesture to his new steed the Baron began ascending toward the horizon, an unstoppable sea of warriors following pace behind him.
The last few remnants of Kel'Thuzad's distraction began retreating before the fury of the Forsaken. Mira Shadewither cackled to herself at the Lich's attempt to give his master more time to prepare. The endless waves of the undead behind her had weapons in their hands and purpose in their hearts, and that's all they would need to defeat the Scourge and their so called "king." Mira pulled out her bow, notched an arrow and let it fly. The arrow screamed through the air and drove through a retreating necromancer. The Dark Ranger just smiled and prepared to make the final order to her army. "To Icecrown! We will sweep aside the Scourge and watch as the Lich King himself bows before our queen, for the glory of Sylvanas!" Mira yelled.
"For the glory of the Forsaken!" her army answered and charged forward, a lust for death fueling their once dead bodies toward the mountains of Northrend.