Halford Wyrmbane had a thousand tasks that all needed his attention, and adding a new, untested general to his force simply brought more. Integrating her should take time, care, but he had none of the former to spare. He was just going to have to throw her on a horse, put her in a column, and hope for the best. They were moving on soon.
She arrived by lich. That had been made very clear to him, and there were few ways she could have responded to his message as quickly as she had, and they were all magical. She'd come by mage, warlock or lich. While she definitely needed an aide, she needed a mount more, and he had none of those to spare, either. None that would fit with the carefully crafted package that Mograine had put together, but he knew that his invitation might not have been part of Mograine's plans. Probably not, she'd been very deliberately placed in Valiance Keep. That was an interesting choice in itself, why not Valgarde? Why not any of the forward posts that he knew that the Ebon Blade could have sent her to? He understood why she had not been introduced to him, properly. Wintergarde was his, the base for his people. To have even broadly hinted that he should consider taking on Mograine's dark and mysterious new general would have been presumptuous at best. And absolutely everything in this had been planned, plotted, weighed and measured. It was rather awkward that he'd come along and apparently circumvented all of that.
He sighed, moving through the back halls of Wintergarde. She was probably still in her rooms... Or not. She was seated in a window well in the back corridor, her knees pulled up to her chest, a cup next to her. She had been staring out, staring out in the same direction that he often did from this exact same window. Although it looked out on to a sheer wall of rock, that was the way towards Icecrown.
"Lady Sorrow?" It was mildly annoying that there was no clear way to address her. They'd already agreed that using ranks was going to be repetitive at best and annoying at worst, but that left him struggling. Ordinarily, he'd use her surname, just as she seemed to use his...except that she didn't claim one. So what did he do now? Assume some sort of noble title. Not exactly an improvement, but there was something about her that made it feel like it might just be correct. Or, more precisely, might have been correct at some point in the past. Either this one had been gently born and raised, or someone had put a lot of time and effort into refining her mannerisms. Until he had her out in the field, until he could see her in combat and command, it was just a guess as to which one it was.
"Wyrmbane." She picked up the cup and waved at him to take a seat next to her. He accepted, leaning against the opposite side of the jam from her. "You needed something from me?"
"Actually, no. You need something, however."
"I need a great many things, which one in particular have you noticed I lack?" There was an undeniable edge of amusement in the question and he chuckled back. It was a bit of a welcome change from Dawnbringer's solemn focus, the man did not have even the slightest dram of humor in his soul.
"A horse. Or its equivalent. We move on Angrathar soon."
He felt her amusement evaporate at those words, and almost wished he could take them back. But they were the truth and she needed to be prepared for this. "I...understand." She stood, replaced her cup on the sill and clapped her hands together once, in thought. "I will be back." She promised slowly, dread woven into her voice. It was difficult for him to judge how much of that was her mood and how much was whatever had been done to her voice, but he was certain that part of it was genuine. She reached out her hand towards the darkest corner in the corridor, took an obvious breath, and closed her fingers. The shadows deepened into an impenetrable darkness, before a ripple of violet colored the edges and a death gate coalesced. Halford had seen them before, but this was the first time he'd seen one summoned this closely, from the very beginning. And it was certainly the first time he'd seen a self proclaimed paladin cast one.
Cold poured from it and he could hear faint whispers from its depths, indistinct murmurs that could be calls, or warnings...or both. Sorrow stood before it for an uncomfortably long moment before she squared her shoulders and strode into it. It collapsed the moment she was gone, leaving him alone in the corridor.
"Well." He chuckled, picking up the cup she'd abandoned on the sill. "It's a good thing that Dawnbringer didn't see that."
Bridge appeared in Darion's antechamber on Acherus, her presence announced by a low peal that echoed down the hallway behind her.
I don't like it here. No, she didn't. And she knew she wasn't really supposed to. Darion had never tried to fit her in here with nearly the same effort that he'd shown at Valiance Keep when he'd introduced her as a member of the Ebon Blade, as his general. She wasn't even quite sure if most of the members of the Ebon Blade even knew she existed, much less held that role for them. She'd actually met very few of them, held at a cautious distance away.
This is the safest way. The last thing that Darion needed was a real confrontation between her and any member or members of the Ebon Blade. She held no illusions, she would not win, but she was confident she could wreak a whole lot of destruction...
"Do not make me regret letting you go as a death knight..."
"I would make a terrible death knight." Of course, using the abilities that Amal'thazad had given her would immediately attract his attention. He did not answer, although she felt his focus still firmly fixed on her. The overall feeling was that of a disapproving parent who was ready, willing and able to stare down a child until that child truly grasped that they weren't joking. It seemed safer to just not answer, nothing that came to mind would even remotely help the situation. And it was nothing she really wanted to consider. Not now. Hopefully, not ever.
And thankfully she was rescued by the heavy footfalls and the muted clink of armor that announced Darion's arrival. "Sorrow." He stated, moving by her to the antechamber door across from her and opening the door into his study. "Problems with Wyrmbane already?"
"Not in the way you mean, no. He has just let me know I require a mount, that he means to move on Angrathar...soon. Finding a mount on Northrend will be an impossibility." Anything that would do would already belong to a paladin, and she doubted if any of those would be willing to give one up.
Darion paused, considering her words. It shouldn't be a surprise, the 7th was on Northrend to get things done. Wintergarde was a forward base positioned to get Wyrmbane's troops to the closest gate onto the glacier, the only one that made any strategic sense from Wintergarde was Angrathar. And even the Onslaught knew that there were forces encamped at its base. Their position had been noted on every map that Bridge had seen since she'd been taken out of New Hearthglen. The same maps that Darion had been staring at. "Of course. I'll make arrangements to have him transported to Wintergarde immediately. You should probably return, to smooth things over."
And Bridge did not like the sounds of that. But almost anywhere was better than Acherus and she knew when she'd been dismissed. It was odd to have Darion do it, but she understood that things had changed between them. "Thank you..." The last syllable was barely out of her lips before his office was gone and she was left standing in Wintergarde's yard again. There was a few moments of relative peace before an arcane circle etched its way across the stones and the spell disgorged a large, dark horse out into the yard, lead rope snaking between its pasterns as it plunged out of the portal, ears pinned, striking violently at the air in front of it. It spun on Bridge and she froze, judging it...him...and waiting for him to figure out his next response. She knew from experience that divine shield worked just as well against angry chargers as it did against enemies and she wasn't too proud to use it in that way...again.
"Hey, boy." She greeted when he remained still, his focus locked on her. It probably wouldn't help that she sounded wrong, but it was too late to work around that. There was a whisper of a breath in her left hand, a tickle, and then a grip as something closed her fingers around a round, firm object. A quick glance down proved that it was an apple, and she held it out enticingly. "I've got something for you."
He stared back dubiously while she studied him. Big, heavy, definitely a charger. Dark blue roan with black points, he looked terribly familiar. She'd seen this horse before...he hadn't been hers, but he was definitely from Scarlet stock. He'd come from New Avalon.
Subtle, very subtle. But it actually was. Everyone knew that the Ebon Blade had taken down New Avalon. Everyone knew that Acherus hung in the air over it, still. Where else would they get a paladin's charger than from the stables that they'd captured? It made perfect sense. Very few would understand the irony of putting Brigitte Abbendis on a Scarlet charger and sending her out into the world. Hiding in plain sight.
He blew loudly at her, until he turned to watch Wyrmbane as the man emerged from the doors leading out onto the yard. Any doubts that Bridge might have vanished, the charger's original Scarlet brand had scarred white, and had very recently been stricken through with a new, fresh one. Well, that made two of them, both scarred Scarlet and stamped with a whole new identity.
"He does love to make a show, doesn't he?" Wyrmbane strode towards her, giving the charger a long, measuring look as he did so. "He could have arranged to just hand this over to you..."
Bridge shrugged. Darion had always been impetuous, but to state that would let Wyrmbane know too much. It was best that she at least made it seem like she hadn't known Darion from childhood. "I think he took 'immediately' a bit too literally."
"You think?"
"I do." How long had it been since she'd had a lighthearted conversation like this? Able to just joke back, even as slightly as they were doing? I don't have to be cold anymore.
No, she didn't. She had to be strong, she had to be just, but she was allowed to be human again.
"Hmmm." He stepped over to the charger, taking the lead rope and bringing him over to Bridge. "Here. Your horse."
"Thanks." He made it look easy. But then again, why shouldn't it be easy? When was the last time she'd been out with a charger? Too damned long. She'd become 'too important' to venture out on a charger and actually be a paladin. Now, with the clarity of distance, she saw that was just a way to explain away what had been functionally an imprisonment.
I didn't even fight it. But how could she have fought what she hadn't even seen?
She took the lead rope from Wyrmbane, ignoring the flicker of concern that flashed across his features. It wasn't as if she could admit that it had been awhile, that would just be wrong. But everything about her was wrong, what was one more thing? And she was asking him to trust her... "It's been awhile." She finally admitted it aloud, "My previous one..." Had fallen at Hearthglen. How long ago had that been? "...Fell beneath me."
Wyrmbane was silent for a long moment before he gave the roan a quick pat. "And you went into an advisory role. Well, welcome back to the field and back to the saddle. Were you injured during that?"
Not physically. "No. I am still capable."
He nodded, "Stables are this way."
