Chapter 38.5 - Demonic Preparations

Tichondrius was displeased.

The crimson dreadlord who had shown Mannoroth the mystical fountain which the demon had corrupted with his blood was now staring down at a valley of fire, atop a hill surrounded with magically floating rocks. Behind him was a demonic altar, upon which was a cauldron filled with an acidic-looking green liquid. A ghastly smoke was emanating from within, and an acolyte clad in dark robes was tending to its contents.

That scent invigorated the dreadlord. That potion, once finished, would be another tool in the service of the Legion. A miasma that would spell the death of the living and the glory of the undead. That thought made the demon's face twist in disgust.

He loathed the undead scourge. He loathed their minions, their Lich King, and most of all… He loathed their new champion, the traitor death knight, Arthas. By the orders of his Master, Tichondrius had made contact with the fallen prince and ordered him to restore the Cult of the Damned and resurrect the sorceror Kel'thuzad. He had expected the prince to fail, and that'd be one less thorn on his side.

But no. Much to the dreadlord's surprise, the human prince had prevailed over every challenge he faced. Not only that… But the demon could sense. His powers were growing. The prince grew stronger with each passing day, even after fulfilling his final mission of opening the portal that allowed Archimonde to enter Azeroth, along with the rest of the Legion's armies.

It should have ended then. The Scourge, the Lich King, that disgusting, arrogant human filth… They were mere pawns, tools to be used by the Legion to fulfill their goals, only to be discarded afterwards. Tichondrius wished he could personally march up to Icecrown Citadel and destroy the enchanted block of ice containing Ner'zhul's soul with his bare hands. But alas… Archimonde still had use for the undead. And to use, they would be put.

Now, within the Twisting Nether where all demons came to, and came from, Tichondrius impatiently awaited for his brothers to arrive. To his annoyance, the wait was long. Finally, however, a dark portal opened behind his back. He turned around to witness another dreadlord, much like himself, step through it. Varimathras was his name, and he was almost identical to Tichondrius himself in appearance. "Greetings, brother." Said the newcomer, his thin features twisting into a smirk.

Tichondrius' grumpy expression did not change. "You are late. Where are the others?" He demanded, his clawed fingers curling into fists.

Varimathras sneered. "I expect Balnazzar to join us shortly. Detheroc had told me he was particularly busy with a new project he found among the humans. He said he discovered the perfect candidate for his little… Mind games."

Tichondrius sneered. "Pah. What would lord Archimonde say if he knew that Dethroc was shirking his duties with the Legion in favor of his human toys?"

"Lord Archimonde is already well aware of our brother's machinations." Came a new voice. Both dreadlords turned around to witness as a third one stepped through yet another dark portal. The dreadlord Balnazzar wore green armor, and was slightly shorter than his brothers, sporting a smoother face as well. "Unlike you, Tichondrius, he is capable of foreseeing the results of his plans in the long run. Once his schemes bear fruit, we shall reap its rewards, and our conquest will be all the easier for it."

Tichondrius sneered at that. "And I suppose you do as well, brother? Remind me again, who was it that spearheaded the invasion on Azeroth as you were content on remaining dormant within the Nether? I have succeeded where Mal'ganis failed. I alone am responsible for the fall of this wretched world, and I shall be the one at our Lord's side as we-"

"SILENCE!" A voice echoed throughout the dark space surrounding them like the roar of a thunderbolt. Immediately, all three dreadlords turned around and dropped to one knee as, on the fiery chasm before them, the demonic flames swirled into a massive vortex, from which the shape of a new figure was forming.

Kil'Jaeden was the second great eredar lord who commanded the Burning Legion alongside Archimonde. As the latter ravaged Azeroth personally, the former remained within the Twisting Nether, commandeering the demonic troops there and preparing them for battle whilst planning their next move.

His skin was as red as the hellish flames that surrounded his body, with burning eyes of a deep green. Massive horns grew out from the back of his head, and long tendrils simulating a beard were dangling from his chin. "Tichondrius."

The demon raised his head. "Yes, lord Kil'Jaeden?"

"It is as your brothers have said. Detheroc has discovered a way to infiltrate the higher ranks of the human armies. If his plans bear fruit, it will drive a wedge between our enemies, and turn them against one another for us. Power alone is not enough to win a war. I would expect you to have learned this lesson by now."

Fury rose within the crimson dreadlord, but he dared not challenge Kil'Jaeden. He lowered his head once more. "As you say, my lord. I apologize for my impertinence. Then, I ask… Why have you summoned us here?"

Kil'Jaeden's burning eyes shifted to the other dreadlords. "Mannoroth has failed. He was killed by the orcs he sought to control."

Shock and disbelief ran across the dreadlords' faces. "Impossible!" Said Balnazzar. "The orcs are our servants! How could they possibly break free from Mannoroth's influence?"

Kil'jaeden waved his hand. The flames gathered in a spinning circle before him, and in the middle, the image of an orc clad in black armor and carrying a mystical hammer in one hand appeared. "There is one among their kin who seeks to free them from all demonic influence. This… Thrall, as they call him, is their new leader. He uses the power of the elements, much like the shamans of old. Under his guidance, the orcs seek to challenge us. Even worse, they have formed an alliance with the humans of this world, and seek to mount their final defense on Kalimdor. They make their way towards mount Hyjal as we speak."

Confusion spread among the dreadlords. "Mount Hyjal? You mean to tell us they make way towards the world tree?" Asked Varimathras. "How could they know of lord Archimonde's plans?"

"I have my suspicions." Said Kil'jaeden as he waved his hand once more. The image of Thrall was replaced with the wrinkly old face of the prophet Medivh. "Do you recall the Last Guardian? He who once housed a portion of the soul of our master, Sargeras?"

"The Last Guardian still lives?" Tichondrius asked, lifting his head once more. "But he had been destroyed back then, following the opening of the dark portal…"

"He is a creature beyond the physical realm." Declared the eredar lord. "His power is greater than you realize. But I can feel it is waning and deteriorating with time. It would seem that in his final attempt to challenge us, he orchestrated this pathetic alliance between the peoples of Azeroth. He guided them towards Kalimdor, and now he directs them towards Mount Hyjal, where Archimonde seeks to syphon the powers within the world tree to finally burn Azeroth once and for all."

"But then… Could he possibly mean to bring the night elves into this alliance as well?" Tichondrius inquired.

Kil'jaeden nodded. "That is my prediction. Ten thousand years ago, when first we attempted to invade Azeroth, it was the night elves who stood against us. We underestimated their power, and they managed to collapse the demonic portal just as the great Sargeras was crossing it. Up to this day, our master is still lost within the world between worlds, unable to restore his true form. Which is why Archimonde and I are the ones in charge of the Legion. Should the elves join the humans and the orcs…" The eredar's burning green eyes narrowed, and he waved his hand again. The image in the air now shifted to an image of the lush green forests of Ashen Vale. "They could prove to be very… Disruptive towards our plans."

"Give us the order, my lord." Varimathras spoke. "Unleash us, and we shall burn down their forests and the kal'dorei before they have a chance to even meet the humans and the orcs!"

Kil'jaeden snickered. "Indeed… I was planning as much." He then raised his closed fist, and slowly lowered it until it was at level with the dreadlords. Then, even more slowly, his fingers opened up, and resting on his palm was the flaming, darkened skull of an orc. "I trust you remember our pawn, Gul'dan?"

Balnazzar chuckled. "Oh yes… He was a useful servant. It was through his power that the orcs were bound to us. It was a shame to lose such a… Useful piece."

"This is his skull." The skull lifted up in the air, and began to float towards the three dreadlords. It stood a couple meters above the air, staring down at them with its hollow eye sockets. "With its power, you shall be able to destroy the elves. Start by corrupting the nature they love so much. "

Tichondrius spoke once more. "But, my lord… What of the druids? Their numbers have greatly increased since the last war. Even with Cenarius gone, those who followed his teachings still dwell within the emerald dream. Should they awaken once more…"

Kil'jaeden stroked his chin pensively. "Indeed… The power of the druids proved to be a great thorn on our side during the last war. We must exterminate them before they have a chance to awaken." His gaze then was fixated upon Tichondrius. "Then I shall give to you the task of corrupting the elven forests and putting an end to their resistance, Tichondrius. Take the skull to Felwood, and begin spreading the corruption there. I trust Xavius and his satyrs can aid you with the druid issue. With their aid, you shall turn the very forest they rely upon against them."

Pride swelling up within him, Tichondrius stood up and reached out for the skull of Gul'dan. "I will not fail you, my lord."

"And take the Lich King's champion with you."

Tichondrius froze. His burning crimson eyes shifted from the mystical artifact his master was presenting him with, up to Kil'jaeden's mountainously large face. "My lord… I fear I must object…" He began to say.

"I do not trust the Lich King." Kil'jaeden cut him off. "His actions are becoming… Unpredictable. Ner'Zhul stirs within his cage, and Archimonde, who was meant to pull in the reins of the Scourge, is too distracted exterminating the people of the Eastern Kingdoms to fulfill his duties. You are to keep a close watch on the human prince, Tichondrius. Bring him to Kalimdor with you, separate him from his pet lich Kel'thuzad. We must be ready to dispose of the Scourge as soon as they have fulfilled their part."

Tichondrius nodded once more. "As you will, my master. I obey." And with that said, he took the skull in his hands, and beheld it for a moment.

"What would you have us do, lord Kil'Jaeden?" Asked Balnazzar. Kil'jaeden's burning gaze shifted to them.

"Inform Archimonde of what I have told you regarding our enemies. We must accelerate our plans before those feeble mortals have time to mount their defenses. Archimonde himself will be going to Mount Hyjal as well, so I leave you two and Detheroc with the task of controlling the undead in Lordaeron."

Balnazzar and Varimathras nodded, then spoke in unison: "As you will, my master. I obey." Then, along with Tichondrius, they all stood up, opened up dark portals, and stepped through them, returning to the physical realm of Azeroth in order to fulfill their missions.

Tichondrius emerged on Azeroth within the Undead outpost erected in the Tirisfal Glades, upon the northwestern shores of the Eastern Kingdoms. The fallen kingdom of Lordaeron had become a main base for the Undead Scourge, and they were busy reforming the underground tunnels below the city to create quarters and build up a new underground city for their growing armies.

The land he stood on was barren, cracked, and darkened. Ziggurats had been summoned by the acolytes of the Cult of the Damned, and great Citadels could be seen floating high up in the air, from which the undead leaders planned their assaults. Thousands upon thousands of undead soldiers marched back and forth.

His nose wrinkled as he was assaulted by the stench of carrion and rot. Tichondrius absolutely loved the smell of blood, death and carnage, but these undead were the festering filth that followed afterwards. Repulsive mortal remains of his victims raised to fight his foes for him. Disgusting.

"Great one." He heard a familiar voice coming from his side. Tichondrius turned to watch as the lich Kel'thuzad approached, followed closely by the Lich King's new pet - the human prince, Arthas Menethil.

In life, Kel'thuzad had been a human of some merit. A mage of great knowledge who had been seduced by the power of the Lich King, he sought to master the arts of necromancy, and gave up his very life to become an eternal servant of the Scourge. After his death at the hands of the then paladin Arthas, his own killer had taken his remains to the elven capital of Quel'thalas, where he had been resurrected as the skeletal being he now was.

As a lich, Kel'thuzad was tall enough to match even Tichondrius in height. Dark chains surrounded his skeletal torso, and his skull was adorned with a large, purple striped crown. His robes were also purple in color, and from within his rib cage was an azure orb of glowing light. He was floating slightly above the ground, his claw-like bone fingers crossed before his body. "I trust your meeting with our masters went well?"

Tichondrius ignored him, however. His gaze was fixated on the human, Arthas.

The fallen human prince had pale skin, as pale as a corpse. His hair was a dry, lifeless white, and he wore thick plate armor adorned with skulls and furs, the same armor he wore since his days in Northrend. He was riding on top of a skeletal horse - his own personal ride, whose side he rarely left. 'Invincible', he called it. Pathetic.

The one thing about him that Tichondrius was actually wary of, however… Was the glowing runeblade hanging from his belt. The mythical weapon Frostmourne had been capable of ending the life of Mal'ganis, one of the dreadlords sent to this world to begin the Legion's invasion. That was far too dangerous a tool to be in the hands of that unpredictable human.

Finally, the dreadlord shifted his gaze back to Kel'thuzad. "That is no concern of yours, lich. Have you managed to breach the human defenses yet?"

Kel'thuzad took a respectful bow. "Alas, my lord, not as of yet. The lupine beasts still roam the woods of Silverpine, ambushing and attacking our troops. It will take further time to fully recover from their counter attack. But soon, our forces will have once again grown to the point where we may siege the Gilneans again."

"Don't bother." Tichondrius said. "I am claiming the armies built here, and bringing them with me to Kalimdor."

"What!?" Arthas said, urging his horse forward. "Are we to attack Gilneas with nothing more than skeletons and ghouls, then?"

"Mind your tongue, prince!" The demon snapped. "If that had been Lord Kil'Jaeden's will, then you should be glad to give up your pathetic life to do his bidding! Luckily for you, however…" The dreadlord scoffed. "You are to accompany me to Kalimdor."

He saw a curious expression run through Arthas' face. "Did you just say… Kalimdor?"

Tichondrius' eyes narrowed. "Have you heard of it before?"

"Naturally." Kel'thuzad chimed in, floating forward. "I, too, am familiar with the continent to the west. It is where the high elves of Quel'thalas originally hailed from. I'm certain the young prince has mingled with their royalty in life."

Arthas said nothing. Tichondrius noticed the prince had a distant look in his eyes, and one hand was rubbing the pommel of Frostmourne. Clearly, he was hiding something. "Hmph. No matter. We shall depart to the forest of Felwod, at the base of Mount Hyjal. Our task is to corrupt the elven forests, and put an end to the resistance of the Night Elves. Once the world tree of Nordrassil has been destroyed by Archimonde, our victory upon this world will be complete."

Now, Arthas faced him once more. "And how do you propose we do that?"

Tichondrius' face twisted into a dark grin, and he produced the Skull of Gul'dan before his clawed palm. "Behold! This artifact was gifted to me by the great Kil'Jaeden. With its power, we shall turn the very trees the elves adore so much against themselves."

Kel'thuzad approached further still, an intrigued expression on his skinless, skeletal face. "Aaah, I sense great power from this… Truly, a mighty weapon for the Legion, great one. I have no doubt that with his artifact within your possession, we shall be invincible."

"You are not coming, lich." Tichondrius nonchalantly said. "You are to remain here and continue attacking the…" He waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever those rats cowering behind the wall are called."

The lich took a respectful bow. "By your will, my lord. I shall do as you command."

Tichondrius narrowed his eyes. The lich was always quick to do as ordered, and say what was most pleasing to the dreadlords. He was the perfect figure of an obedient slave, eager to do as commanded for the sake of his masters to his best ability.

That was precisely why Tichondrius was so distrustful of him. He was against the idea of using Kel'thuzad to summon Archimonde in the first place, but his masters had insisted that he used the Lich King and his minions to their fullest extent. And the dreadlord had to admit, in life, he had already been a powerful wizard. But in undeath, Kel'thuzad was a force to be reckoned with.

And then there was the human…

Tichondrius suspected that even before his resurrection, Kel'thuzad had been aiding Arthas from beyond the grave. Arthas Menethil had been steadily rising among the ranks of the undead, as had his powers been increasing more and more. The dreadlords was of an opinion that the death knight should be disposed of now, before he could become a threat to the Legion.

The plan was to dispose of the Scourge as soon as their victory upon Mount Hyjal was secured. How Tichondrius longed to personally end the prince's life with his own two hands. The thought made the demon smirk as he beheld the human. "Gather the forces, then. Send them to my location in Kalimdor as soon as you are ready." And with that, Tichondrius opened up yet another dark portal, which took him to the familiar landscape of Ashenvale forest, next to Felwood, within the continent of Kalimdor.

It had been ten thousand years since the last time the demon had stepped hoof on these lands. Last time, he too had been part of the attack against the night elves, the dragon aspects, and the demigods who populated this land. But now, the dragons were scattered and weakened. The gods had fallen, and the elves… It was his mission to deal with them.

Tichondrius lifted the skull of Gul'dan high above his head. A green mist was emanating from it. "Soon…" He whispered. "This world… And all on it… Shall burn before the Legion!"

Tichondrius laughed. Nothing short of the very artifact he held could possibly oppose his power now. And who would ever be so foolish as to try and use a demon's own power to hunt one?