As It Burns: Chapter 2
The Hexknot sisters.
...
"Tristee, would you hurry up?" Azerieh huffed out, hauling a large sack of provisions over her shoulder and blowing a stray strand of red hair out of her face. "The battle is that way."
"I'm well aware of which way they're gettin' all bloodied up." Tristee leered back, tossing the last of the provision bags into her Void-Lord's waiting arms. "No need to rush it. All we're doin' is bringin' food to the front anyway." Azerieh sent her sister a look that read as a warning, but Tristee merely rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers at the demon.
"C'mon Galaton, let's beat it before my sis' has a coniption fit." She said, sending a sassy wink her sister's way. The warrior in response rolled her eyes, before moving along beside the warlock and her pet void-creature.
"Do you think Xae and Crys are already on the front?" Azerieh asked, eyes sparkling at the prospect of getting to fight on the front lines. Tristee shrugged, keeping a weather eye on the trees around Ashenvale.
"I don't doubt it." Tristee said. "Crys is one of the commander's after all. The Warchief's been very... particular, towards her as of late."
"More towards the High Overlord if you asked me." Azerieh argued, adjusting the heavy sack in her hands. "Seems like any day now there might be a Mak'gora on the horizon." Tristee sent her sister a severe look.
"Don't say that!" She hissed. "You don't know who could be listening."
"Ah, who cares. We're getting paid, aren't we?" Azerieh replied flippantly. "'Sides, what's got your knickers in a twist? Nervous you might have to get your hands dirty?" Tristee struggled not to roll her eyes at the goblin warrior.
"I'm not nervous about anything." Tristee stated, her narrow eyes nearing slits as she assessed her sister. "We're here to do our job, and to serve the Horde. What else is there to do at this point anyway?"
"Yeah, without all those bounties to collect in the Broken Isles I guess things are real difficult to keep from boredom." Azerieh replied dryly.
"Think what you want sis." Tristee said. "But it doesn't really matter what we think anyway." Azerieh nodded her head in agreement, and the two goblins continued on towards the rendez-vous point.
...
Xaedrienne felt as if this was a never-ending cycle.
Her gun was cocked and sat on her hip as she blended into the trees, her eyes scanning for the tell-tale purple of the sentinal's skin, or a flash of black that marked the druids of the Claw. So far she'd only picked off a couple, and in all honesty, she was finding it harder and harder to stay put in the tree.
But Hector had insisted...
She sighed, hand absently running along her belly. She heard a slight ruffle of the trees and hitched the gun up to her shoulder, eye on the scope and breathing slowed to a near stop. In her periferals she saw a small group of sentinals, clad in their scanty armor and looking angrier than a hungry warpstalker, running towards the beach, arrows nocked and paces quick. She cursed beneath her breath.
"Only single targets, and by the Titans if I hear that you left the tree I swear to the Warchief-"
Her smile was brittle, but tugged at her cheeks anyway. He was always looking out for her best interests but now... Her hand absently brushed her belly again. Now wasn't the time to get distracted.
Once again setting her eye inside the scope, she roamed the landscape again, willing her eyes to see further, focus harder. Her concentration was rewarded, as a stray sentinal with a severe face and rough, ugly scar crossing from her shoulder to neck, tip-toed towards her area, bow nocked and ready to fire. Xaedrienne let out a slow, quiet breath and focused the gun, pulling lightly back on the trigger until the telltale sound of gunpowder burst forth, the sound travelling in the dense foliage as the Sentinal crumpled to the ground, a hole through her head. Xaedrienne strapped the gun to her back and slid down the trunk of the tree, grimacing when her feet hit the ground. No telling how many of the sentinals had heard it, and so, it was time to relocate. This time, hopefully, not to a tree.
She wandered through the denser part of the forrest quietly, avoiding the edges towards the beach as often as she could. Many of the Night Elven villages were built on the outskirts of the sandy shores, and she was strictly forbidden from engaging large groups. Not to mention, she wasn't stupid. She knew how deadly the Kaldorei could be. The last thing she needed was to die here.
Keeping an ear open, she considered for a moment summoning her pet Panthera to sniff out some rogues or hidden archers, but decided against it. The creature was obedient, sure, and would no doubt find exactly what she asked him to, but there was no guarantee he'd be quiet about it. And she needed stealth. She wished she hadn't stabled Kiri back in Dalaran, she could use the raptor's quiet hunting viciousness right about now. Especially right now.
She crouched down when her ears picked up a low crunching sound and slipping of plate armor approaching her previous hideout near the tree. She peeked out, squinting and her eyes widened to see a familiar set of armor glinting in the evening sun. As if he knew she'd spotted him, his eyes turned towards her, a slight smile lighting up his face.
"I see ya there, Xae." Hector said, his gravelly voice familiar and warm. "Why don't you come on out. The area is clear."
Xaedrienne stood, but made no move to approach Hector. Her hunter's instincts were going wild, and something felt... wrong. She quickly averted her eyes, left, right, but saw no signs of the enemy nearby.
"What's wrong?" Hector asked, placing a hand on his sword, looking back and forth as she had, eyes narrowing. Xaedrienne took one step forward, but kept her hand on her gun.
"Just a hunch." She said vaguely. "Is your strike group already at the front?"
"Yeah, they're makin' good progress." He emphasized, taking slow steps towards her. "I came back ta getcha. Wouldn't want to keep ya tree'd." Xaedrienne tensed a little bit, and Hector stopped, tilting his head.
"Xae... What's wrong, you're actin' funny." He said, holding out a hand to her. She hesitated.
"Hec..." She said slowly, keeping her expression neutral. "What would you say if I told you I didn't want to do this anymore... and that we should start a family?" The male goblin hesitated, a look of confusion spreading on his face.
"If we get seperated, there's some things you need to know." Hector said, handing her a cool mug of water. "The Alliance will be everywhere. I can't risk you gettin' hurt out there. Not... not now." He looked at her meaningfully and she back at him.
"I won't let you and my sisters fight this battle without me." She replied stubbornly, keeping her arms crossed. Hector chuckled, rubbing a calloused hand along her arm gently.
"I didn't think you ever would, toots." He said. "Which is why I'm going to tell you a little secret." He laid his hand on her belly. "I've travelled many places, seen all sorts of war and carnage. But the biggest, best thing I've ever seen, is you carryin' our first little one."
"You can't even tell." Xae said, but the blush still lit her cheeks up. He grinned, and she tilted her head in response.
"I know." He replied. "Use that to your advantage. If you're ever unsure, just ask me what I would say if you wanted to just quit and start a family." He looked up with his red eyes, warm despite their tone. "I better answer with, we already have."
"I mean, toots, is this really the time for this question?" Xaedrienne was pulled from the brief memory and a smile lit her face. Hector's face relaxed and he took another step towards her, bidden by her expression of happiness.
"No, it's not." She agreed. Faster than lightening, she had the gun in her hands, cocked and finger on the trigger. "Bye, Alliance scum." She pulled on the trigger and the blast knocked the phony goblin off his feet, flying back into a nearby tree and groaning as he slid down it. The illusion faded, leaving a human rogue in his place, glaring at her angrily as the blood poured from his mouth. Xaedrienne stepped forward and leant down next to him carefully.
"You all think we're just monsters that don't have feelings." She said, pushing a lock of greying hair out of his face. "But our bonds are strongest because we are the Horde. We don't build off of societal norms like you do." She paused, unsheathing a dagger from her belt. "I'll give you a choice. I can end the pain now, or leave you here to bleed out. It's your choice."
"Horde... filth." The human spat, a few flecks of blood making it onto her face. She shook her head, sending a pitying look his way.
"We have to endure somehow." She said sadly, holstering her gun. " We stand by our Warchief." Xaedrienne turned away from the dying rogue and disappeared again into the forest expanse.
...
"Crysanthemum, come here." The death knight's eyes hardly shifted in response to the echoed demonic lilt of her companion, but she nevertheless dropped the crate of explosives and walked over to where the demon hunter was standing over a map, his sightless gaze trained on the edges.
"What now?" She asked, her inflectionless voice hardly raising a question.
"When was the last time you spoke directly to the Warchief?" He asked her curiously, looking up from the map. Crysanthemum shrugged, her plate armor scraping against itself.
"An hour ago or so, why?"
"Have you looked at her maps?"
"No. Nor do I care for them if I'm being honest." The demon hunter, Dessivh, looked at her.
"Then what do you care for?" He asked. She scanned the edge of the forest near where previously, a wall of wisps had lain.
"I am waiting for Xaedrienne's husband's batallion to make it this way. Then for my sister to follow."
"Thats... not at all what the Warchief asked from you." Crysanthemum sent him a withering look, but made no further comment. She walked back to the edge of the forest, staring out at the patch of corpses that littered the area. The draw of necromantic energy coursed throught her veins at the prospect of raising the dead, but she did nothing of the sort. Despite her personal acceptance of her unlife, she would subject no-one else to her lot. Not after the Legion's return forced her to raise the four Horseman. Not after facing the suspicions that their current Warchief was looking to introduce all of the living to a life of unending torment and suffering.
Oh, she knew what the Warchief was planning. In a way, it made sense. One could not truly die if they were already dead. At least not in the same sense. Undead soldiers needn't eat, sleep, rest, or comply with basic familiarity for social purpose. Perfect soldiers. Perfect subjects. Something she had found distasteful since her concious return from the depths of the Lich King's control. She said none of this to anyone. She couldn't very well prove that this was what the Warchief was planning this, since she'd never actually said anything, but she knew, as did the other Death Knights around her, that her actions only led to one destination.
How no-one else had realized yet was beyond her.
A hand to the shoulder broke her from her reverie, and she looked up at the bandaged eyes of the blood elf she'd named her companion.
"You know something." It wasn't a question. Unlike her, the demon hunter still had the ability to range his emotions. He could see through her seemingly uncaring exterior.
"I care more about my sister's safety then I do for this bloodshed." She admitted. "We're only beginning another war. One I'm not so sure we deserve to win."
"As the Horde?" She turned to him sharply.
"The Horde... is my family. And My family was welcomed by the Horde." She said. "But... Azeroth is dying. And we are here fighting each other instead." Dessivh started at this. He'd forgotten about the wound in Silithus, and by extension, the Azerite. But it seemed, Crysanthemum had more on her mind then laying waste to a couple Night Elves. Not that he felt she was against the bloodshed altogether. She'd described to him once the insatiable need to shed blood to maintain her sanity.
"Then what do you mean, little flower?" Dessivh asked, kneeling down to be eye level with the death knight. She averted her eyes.
"I mean, "she said, her voice low. "This is only the beginning of another long war that I'm not sure I want any part of." This was a surprise to him. As long as he'd known her , which wasn't long, he'd admit, she'd been involved in near every campaign, every assault, every breach that had existed since the Legion came to Azeroth. Her attacks were lethal, her strategies genius. Her ruthlessness common for a death knight, but the genuine care with which she avoided slaying innocents was almost... too sweet. She explained to him once, that she'd been a paladin in life. Some habits were hard to break, apparently.
And she cared about her sisters. She had three. Each skilled in their own right, and harder to reign in then the undead goblin. And she didn't try. She knew what life led to, and she waited in the aftermath, unguarded, and unforgiving.
"So why answer the Warchief's call, then?" He asked, genuinly curious as to her reasons for obeying the one person she probably could have avoided in all other scenarios.
"She's the Warchief." Crysanthemum replied simply, brushing her cloak over her shoulder. "We must stand by her. For better... or for worse." She began to walk towards the shoreline, her deadened glowing eyes focused on the collosal world tree.
...
"That all ya got?" A grumpy goblin sapper asked as Galaton unceremoniously dropped the remaining sacks on the ground at his feet. Tristee and Azerieh exchanged an incredulous look.
"Are you serious? That was the whole cart!" Azerieh burst out, hands on hips, cheeks darkening. The goblin barely made eye contact with her, scratching at his head and picking at a nail instead.
"Look, There were supposed to be fifty sacks. I see ten."
"The other forty were carried by the others in our group." Tristee said, her voice low and cold. "Or did you miss the towering Orc and Troll's passing through?" Now the goblin sapper looked up, sending Tristee a confused look.
"What are you talkin' bout toots?" He asked, setting his rifle on the ground. "Do you see an orc and troll round these parts?" Tristee scoffed but did look around, and narrowed her eyes when indeed Gartosh and Hem'ti were both absent, and forty bags of rations with them.
"But... they left before us." Tristee said, sending a nervous look at Azerieh. The male goblin sighed, shaking his head.
"Well then, they're probably dead now." He said, matter of factly. "And the supplies pillaged. Hey, maybe you two can go back and see if anything can be salvaged?"
"What are we, peons?" Azerieh snapped, and the goblin went to reply but Tristee grabbed her sister by the pauldrons and steered her away.
"Yeah, yeah, don't get a stick up your bum. We're movin." Tristee said, pushing the bulky warrior towards the forrest. Once they were out of earshot, she stopped, and Azerieh nearly tripped over her boots.
"What was that all about?" Azerieh hissed, readjusting her pauldrons.
"We're not here to deal with him anyway." Tristee replied simply. "Let's head to the shoreline. We should get a clear shot at the action over there."
"But... what about-"
"Seriously Az? " Tristee interrupted. "You heard the guy. They're probably dead. No use in worrying about it now. We could go find Xae and Crys, and start really getting involved, rather than towing sacks around. Whaddya say?" Azerieh crossed her arms.
"What if that Orc had been Krag, Tris?" Azerieh said, poking her sister's exposed collarbone. Tristee flinched.
"He wouldn't have-"
"Yeah yeah, but neither would Gartosh, okay? He's a good orc. Strong too. We should at least give them the curtosy of good old fashioned Horde vengeance, don't you think?" Tristee sighed, rolling her eyes, but aquiesced.
"Yeah, I guess. Let's hurry it up though."
...
Xaedrienne could see the base of the World tree, Teldrassil from where she was standing. She hitched her gun onto her back and clambored over the fallen trees, scanning the beach for a hint of purple. Her subject was found, talking to her companion, a red-headed blood elf, a demon hunter no less, at the edge of the beach, arms crossed, posture tense. She looked around and noticed the Warchief coming from the tree line as well, a look of grim satisfaction on her face. The beach was littered with nigh elven corpses, as well as Horde bodies, strewn about in the sand, rotting and festering with flies.
Crysanthemum turned and acknowledged the Warchief with a nod, which was returned. Xaedrienne quickly made her way to her sister's side, taking a sidelong glance at High Overlord Saurfang and Nathanos Blightcaller as they pulled up the rear. Crysanthemum touched her sister's shoulder lightly, then turned her attention to Dessivh, who was watching the Warchief suspiciously.
"Now that we've secured this area, we should be able to return to Dalaran." Crysanthemum said, her voice delibrately low. Dessivh grinned however, a feral, disturbing smile.
"I don't think it'd hurt to stay and cull what little resistance remains." He said. "After all... a fight's a fight. The Alliance has been asking for this."
"Have they though?" Xaedrienne said, more to herself then anyone else. Her hand sat on her belly and Crysanthemum's eyes trailed to the hunter, widening in surprise.
"You're with child?" She asked her, suddenly looking fierce, almost angry. Xaedrienne smiled, sheepishly.
"Er... yes." She admitted, a dark green blush settling in her cheeks. "I meant to.. tell, everyone."
"Why are you here, Xae?" Crysanthemum hissed, her blue glowing eyes seeming deadly in the evening sunset. "Are you mad?"
"I couldn't let you all come here and just... fight, without me." She explained, her hands held up as an apology. "And Hector's here too and I just... I couldn't stay behind, Crys. I couldn't." Crysanthemum exhaled in a gust and opened her mouth to reply when the command came.
"Burn it." Everyone turned to face the Warchieft, who stood, unopposed before the World Tree, her eyes glittering with something akin to fire. No one breathed, and hardly anyone even dared breathe.
"Burn it!" She repeated, the mania glowing behind the red eyes. The Blightcaller lifted a hand and gestured to the catapults behind them. Shaman and mages began to light the slag, while strong Orcs and Tauren pulled back levers and allowed it to fly at the tree. Xaedrienne watched in horror as the tree caught flame and quickly spread across the entirety of Teldrassil, setting the sky aflame with smoke and ash.
"No..." High Overlord Saurfang stepped forth, his eyes bulging and his hands limp at his side. Dessivh's grin only grew, and Crysanthemum watched the scene impassively, her cold blue eyes looking odd with flickerings of red and orange.
"No, stop! Stop shooting! Damn you all!" But the Orc's rage came to late. Even Xaedrienne could see that now. Even if every catapult halted, the tree was already aflame. Anyone inside that hadn't already escaped, would now not have the chance to. They'd doomed the inhabitants to a horrid, horrid death.
Xaedrienne in that moment could think of nothing but her unborn child in that moment. The tears came unbidden, but no sound came from her lips. Her sister, turning away from the torched tree, set a hand upon her sister's shoulder.
"Find Hector, and go home, Xae." Crysanthemum almost sounded weary. "Don't forget what you saw here today." Xae shook her head, feeling numb, and walked off towards the groups of Horde soldiers amassing around the shoreline, staring up at the World Tree; some in horror, some in glee, others indifferent. She searched the line, her vision blurry, her chest heaving, for her husband, when his strong arms embraced her. She collapsed and he with her, whispering lightly into her ear.
"It's okay Xae, it's okay..." He said. "I'm here."
"I... Can we leave? Please. I need to be somewhere else... anywhere else." Hector took her shoulders in his hands and peered into her face. He nodded, then pulled a hearthstone from his pocket.
"Hang on tight." He said somberly, clenching the stone tightly in his hand.
As her sister faded from view, Crysanthemum found herself before the Warchief again, expression impassive.
"I could not have forseen this outcome." The Banshee Queen said quietly. "But they will come for us now. Including you, Crysanthemum." She turned her glowing ember eyes to the Death Knight, with Dessivh just behind her.
"You two should rest. The battles from here on out will be rigorous, and trying." She seemed to speak almost bitterly. "There will be plenty of blood to spill in the future. You are dismissed, Commander." Crysanthemum threw up a salute, and turned heel, cloak swaying with her turn. Dessivh offered his hand and she took it, watching as he pulled out his own hearthstone.
...
"Savage elves." Azerieh spat, pulling her axe from the chest of one she'd killed. "Look at what they did to him!" The two goblin sisters had found Hem'ti, bound to the base of a tree, and, by the looks of what was left of his corpse, was used as target practice, and for sharpening claws. Gartosh stood with them, an eye missing and his right arm flayed open. Tristee had given him a healthstone, but they both knew he needed to see a medic straightaway. Night would break soon, and they would be at a disadvantage with the Elves that roamed the area. They were running out of time.
"Can you carry his body?" Tristee asked Gartosh, using her dagger to slice the ropes clear. Gartosh grunted and scooped up the elder troll with his good arm.
"Let's get him to the front... they can give him a proper burial." Azerieh said, taking another moment to look disgustedly at the corpse of the Night Elf. The trio moved quickly to the shore, when they could smell smoke. Tristee looked up at the sky, and narrowed her eyes.
"I know it's around sunset... But that isn't natural." She said, pointing up. Gartosh and Azerieh looked up, both narrowing their eyes suspiciously.
"C'mon, we shouldn't dally around. Something big might be goin' on!" Azerieh said, clutching her axe tightly in her hand. Gartosh merely nodded and they moved quickly through the forest, following the increasing smell of smoke. As they approached the clearing, it became clear that indeed, the skies coloring was not natural at all.
The World Tree was burning.
Gartosh shook his head and blinked as if he couldn't believe it. Tristee balked completely, her eyes wide like saucers. Azerieh looked on in confusion.
"Did we... Did we do that?" Azerieh asked, pointing to the tree. Tristee was about to reply when she caught sight of Crysanthemum, grabbing the hand of a Demon Hunter.
"Crys!" The Death Knight looked up as Tristee and Azerieh came running over to their sister. She let go of Dessivh's hand, and he observed the sisters warily.
"Who burned the tree?" Azerieh asked, her eyes flickering back and forth. "Did we win Darnassus?"
"We burned the tree." Dessivh said, a glint in his eye as it trailed back to the now smouldering tree. "The Warchief ordered it."
"The Banshee Queen did?" Tristee asked in shock. "That's... wow, that's insane!"
"Many of the Horde died this day." Gartosh said, saluting the little goblins. "Thank you for coming to our aid, Azerieh and sister. And for allowing Hem'ti to be laid to rest properly." Azerieh saluted the orc back and Tristee nodded her head.
"So what now?" Azerieh asked, holstering her axe. "Now we own this area, what are we going to do?" Crysanthemum grimaced. Tristee noticed, and uncrossed her arms.
"What?" She asked the Death Knight. "What is it?" Crysanthemum sighed, turning briefly to look at the tree.
"We prepare for war." She told them, her echoed voice lost in the sounds of flickering wood. "We prepare to fight... For the Horde."
...
And that is it for the Hexknot sisters! I literally could go on forever with these four, but I will never finish any other project so... That's it! Enjoy! Next up will probably be my Draenei Shaman Molniia.
