She climbed the stairs back to her room, carefully packing her belongings. Although she had been taken with nearly nothing, Darion had been generous. It was necessary, of course, to sell her as that general. To maintain the idea that the Ebon Blade was able to field well equipped personnel. She was the one who would stand in front of those who would be looking for any cracks, any chinks in that. Everything about her would be noted, measured, reported on. It was just how it was. The best way to handle it was to be herself. Not what she had become, but who she actually was. Brigitte Fordring had not been a force in decades. Many people might 'know' High General Abbendis 'well enough' to pick her out of a disguise. Only Tirion knew Brigitte well enough.
She shouldered her bags, took one last look around the room to make certain she had not forgotten anything and stepped back into the hallway, moving down the stairs and through the common room, emerging into the wan, hazy sunlight.
It was easy enough to weave her way through and around the clusters of troops, moving towards the squawks of gryphons piercing through the muttering conversations and creaking equipment.
She was unsurprised when she climbed up to the platform and gained the instant attention of the gryphon master. "I need to go to Wintergarde." That would not only send her to the person who had signed a death warrant for her, it would also put her uncomfortably close to New Hearthglen.
I refuse to run from them.
She'd hide, certainly. That was a necessity. But she wasn't going to languish in Valiance Keep for long, they were here for the Lich King and that meant moving towards Wintergarde anyway. There was a reason she'd put New Hearthglen in that area in the first place. That had always been the second step towards Icecrown. Wintergarde was the Alliance's second step towards Icecrown. That was where she needed to be and she had a personal invitation echoing that.
"Or, I could just...send you there. Why waste the time traveling there? And honestly, Brigitte Abbendis would be the absolute last person that Dawnbringer would expect to arrive in such a fashion..."
And there was a reason for that. The very idea set her teeth on edge. However, it didn't seem to be any worse than other things she'd done/had done to herself in this.
"It's a long, cold way there. You know that better than most."
Yes, yes she did. And it was still early to start wearing herself out simply answering an invitation. Lazy, silly. You'll get yourself into trouble all over again by...
By what? Relying on her support? That wasn't what had pulled her down in the first place, was it?
"No. You were bound to fall. Someone close to you set that in motion before you were even a paladin. Someone failed you, Brigitte. Failed so many of you..." The lich's 'voice' trailed off for a moment. "Not now. That cannot be changed, it is in the past. Wintergarde, Wyrmbane, that is here and now."
"I don't have a gryphon to spare for a journey that long on such short notice, ma'am, not at the moment. Perhaps in a week or so...?"
Well, that clenched that one. Adding a week to this journey was out of the question. "Fi..." Reality jolted around her and the temperature plunged, her breath freezing in her nostrils. "...ne." She sighed. Thankfully, this seemed to be a common enough occurrence that no arrows rained down on top of her. She had acquired several wary stares, it was obvious that if she seemed to misbehave more than appearing without warning, she'd be an immediate target from multiple angles.
"I have an invitation." She pulled it out, holding it cautiously in front of her. "From Commader Wyrmbane."
One of the guards moved closer, pulling off his helmet, his gaze flicking between where her face was and the envelope. "You are?" He finally asked, taking the envelope from her grip and inspecting it.
"Sorrow. From the Ebon Blade."
"Death knight. Well, I guess I should have expected this." He frowned, obviously loathe to give the envelope back to her. Bridge considered arguing the most obvious point, but if she tried to correct every single person who was going to mistake her for a death knight, she'd die of old age before she made it to Icecrown. "Welcome to Wintergarde." There was a bit of a lack of that 'welcome' in his voice and Bridge simply tilted her head at him. The place was about what she was expecting; gray, uninspiring, somewhat depressing, a sprawling cluster of blocky buildings.
New Hearthglen is beautiful...
And it was filled with rot. She'd planned it to be worthy, graceful, shining. The place her people would find refuge, a new life, in. But there was no new life, only more of the same.
"Thank you." Another thing that wasn't worth rising to. "Where might I find Commander Wyrmbane?"
"This way." He waved her to follow him, striding through the muddied yard towards the keep. He was just on the edge of moving too quickly for her to follow without hopping like an idiot, and that was her final straw. She was not going to chase him, she'd been invited here, she was carrying her bags. Let him outdistance her, he'd either be forced to come back for her or wait. If he did neither, she'd just ask the next person she found to point her in the right direction.
He was waiting just inside when she hit the threshold and she gave him a long disapproving silence when she drew up as close to him as she intended to get. "Was that necessary?" She finally asked, well aware of what the cowl did to her voice.
"No. My apologies, it was not necessary. This way...please." He led her around the main hall and up a set of stairs, into a large room in the back of the keep. The space was dominated by a large table, two men seated at the end, one directly facing the door. Wyrmbane. He had that look, that feel that so many commanders developed over the years. The second man sitting alongside him, closer to the door caused a bit more of a hiccup. Dawnbringer. Of course. Who else? He'd been butting heads against her and hers for years, he'd tried negotiations, he'd tried combat and he'd finally resorted to coin and a death warrant to try to stop her.
It was a path that Bridge could respect, at the very least. His crusade against her had always been calm, well thought out and untainted by anger.
Both men had turned their heads, Dawnbringer looked both curious and concerned...Wyrmbane looked like everything he was expecting had just walked through his door.
Distinct possibility.
She had no illusions, she was in the middle of two very good opposing forces, and the price was her identity. Amal'thazad's job was to keep it a mystery, The prize for Wyrmbane's people would be to put the correct name to her, and she knew they had enviable resources. They'd made deep inroads into gathering intelligence in New Hearthglen, and she'd given them even more to work with.
"General Sorrow."
Well, at least Wyrmbane managed to make it sound like he had indeed sent her an invitation. He had a good voice, easy to listen to.
"Commander Wyrmbane." It was easier to focus on him and push Dawnbringer off to the side. "I received your invitation." He felt...there. A solid soul, wrapped up in the Light, just like the men she'd grown up around. He was thinner than she'd been expecting, with close cut dark blond hair and hazel eyes, a narrow mouth and a slightly off kilter, rather prominent nose.
"Good, good. I wasn't certain that you would. Mograine did not exactly state a method for me to contact you with any sort of ease." He stood, pushing out the chair to his left with a foot. Unfortunately, that particular seat would put her directly across from Dawnbringer, but fussing over it would make her unease obvious. "This is Crusade Commander Dawnbringer..."
And that just sounded so very wrong. Brigitte knew that the 'Crusade' in question was not hers, but to hear Eligor Dawnbringer hailed as a Commander...of a Crusade... It was still both amusing and disturbing that the forces on the ground here decided that they were also a Crusade, just of a different color.
"Eligor, this is General Sorrow."
Just go right through the middle of this...
She extended her bare hand to him without hesitation. "Commander." He thought she was dead. Gone. He wasn't looking for her. He took it a little more warily than she'd offered it, then paused, tilting his head measuringly.
"General." He held it for a moment too long before letting it go, giving Wyrmbane a side glance.
"We may as well drop that, or this is going to get very tedious very quickly. Commander Commander General sounds like a child's circle game. Call me by a name, either one you prefer."
"Agreed." Dawnbringer stated, doing his best to not stare too obviously at her. Finally he just shook his head, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "You're as much a death knight as I am...Sorrow?"
"Sorrow, yes. And no, I'm not a death knight. I yet live." That would have been obvious from the moment he touched her, but even had she worn gauntlets, gloves, he would know it anyway. Both of them would. She simply could not sit in a room with two other paladins and successfully masquerade as undead without a lot of meddling from the lich. Nor did she particularly want to try. Her calling was one of the few things she still had left. "I was once counted among the Order."
That was not what he'd been expecting. He sat up slowly, his gaze flicking between her and the silent Wyrmbane. "You...were...a paladin?"
"I am a paladin. I was a member of the Order. Now I am a member of the Ebon Blade." She didn't blame him. If she was in his shoes, she'd have the exact same uncomprehending expression displayed on his features.
"Interesting life choice." Wyrmbane maneuvered deftly into the sudden silence. "It answers as many questions as it spawns. The Ebon Blade has a paladin that Mograine is willing to trust, in his words, implicitly."
"Yes." The only surprise with that was that Darion would state it so bluntly, but he'd obviously been working at this more than she'd thought. Of course, the sooner he got her into this position, the sooner he could distance himself from it all. Let Bridge deal with the living. "They do."
"So you're willing to work for them and with us? As Mograine's liaison and general? You have experience?" He sounded relieved, almost hopeful, while it was now Dawnbringer's turn to be the silent, watchful one.
"I have utterly no experience at being the liaison for the Ebon Blade, but a good amount of experience as a commander in the field." It was a regrettable thing to have to admit to, but it wasn't something she could hide without falling into deliberate incompetency. And she refused to do that.
Wyrmbane joined Dawnbringer in a moment of silence, resting his forehead on his hand and studying the tabletop with a grave focus. "Fine." He stated firmly, obviously coming to a decision. "What does Mograine send you with? I see you've been more than adequately equipped with armor and weapon..."
"Maps, intelligence, coin, standard kit. Access to certain services that I'd prefer to only use in dire circumstances."
"Understood. No staff?" Wyrmbane stood, moving to the window and staring out.
"They fall under 'certain services for dire circumstances'." And Bridge wasn't exactly keen on the idea of having staff, not from the Ebon Blade or really anybody else. She'd had one before, of course, but that was something she'd left behind.
He grunted slightly, nodding that he understood what she meant by that. "Mograine stated you were at liberty to choose your own home base. He seems quite willing to let you go wherever you see fit."
Because he trusts me. Because I go where he doesn't want to go. Because eventually, if I do this right, I can be accepted. You'll never quite accept any of his people. Always held apart, by both sides.
"That is my job."
"Then I'd ask you to consider basing here, at least to start. Valiance Keep is not where the fight is going to stage from, and it's busily falling into a mess we don't have the time or luxury to deal with. Politics, Horde distractions, the nerubians pushing on it. Arlos is worthless. If you're here to actually lead and fight, it's no place for you."
"Sounds like a plan."
