Chapter 1
"My lord?" Kel'thuzad repeated, glancing up from under his deep bow. "Did you hear me, my lord?"
The Lich King sat on his throne with one hand covering his eyes, elbow leaning heavily upon the arm of his chair, seemingly not listening or just not caring to the lich's important announcement.
Kel'thuzad didn't particularly like the idea of assigning human characteristics to describe his Master's state of mind or mannerisms, but he really could not think of any better word to encompass the entirety of the Lich King's demeanor right then other than 'brooding'.
"Scourgeholme, my lord. It is lost." The lich reiterated grimly. The ill news did not have the desired effect, however; his Master still said nothing.
He continued on, hoping to elicit some kind of response. "We sustained heavy losses during the battle at Crusader's Pinnacle, my lord. Our forces were thrown forward rather recklessly and the Argent Crusade cut right through them. The Scourge is vast yes, but not infinite..." The lich was purposely baiting him by overstepping his bounds and pointing out the King's failure. Kel'thuzad knew he hated that.
And indeed he did, but the Lich King's face lie unmoving behind the concealment of his glove.
Kel'thuzad seemed to know a lot of things, especially things that were better left unsaid, such as which of the qualities seemed to have carried over from when before Arthas donned the armor and helm. Things like pride and the childish need to control everything that transpired around him. But it was no longer a childish notion for he now had the power and means to make it a reality, and the lich knew that his King would accept nothing but totality. It was not enough to conquer most; it had to be all, completely and unequivocally. And now, because he had failed to control the human woman, allowed her to slip out of his grasp, a large portion of territory in Icecrown had been lost to the Argent Crusade.
Kel'thuzad would never had said it, but his Master had practically thrown Scourgeholme away. His undead minions had been pushing the Crusader's of Virtues upward towards the Pinnacle, their doom imminent, spirits soon to be broken as they witnessed the fall of their Highlord and beloved tower only to have the plan and his will falter when the rogue revealed her treachery. The Lich King had fled, full of agony and rage. He had flung off his helm and left his undead alone and without orders, the mindless creatures could only stand there stupidly with no reason to defend themselves as the Argent Crusade slaughtered them all. And of course Fordring saw this and seized the opportunity to press forward into Scourgeholme though he hadn't a clue what had gone awry with the Lich King's plans, likely singing praises to the Light for granting them aid in their hour of need.
Now, weeks later, Fordring's foot was in deep enough to claim the land as their own and in celebration of their triumph the paladins had even begun a morale-boosting tournament along the northern border of Icecrown. Kel'thuzad could not believe their audacity and was even more shocked that his Master simply chose to accept the paladins' presence there as well. Icecrown was the Lich King's doorstep, and all manner of his enemies had come together in a collection of festivities, sermons and merrymaking... It just wouldn't do. He needed to spur his Master into action before this went too far...
"My lord, even as we speak now the Argent Crusade works to sanctify and consecrate the land. Fordring gallivants about with the Ashbringer in tow as they shine blessings of the Light down upon the broken ziggurats, capturing Cultists in hopes of reformation by filling their heads with pure and good nonsense, properly putting the dead to rest in ostentatious displays of holiness that spit in the face of the Scourge's ideals, seeking to-"
The Lich King brought his fist down sharply onto the arm of his chair, dislodging several of the shimmering icicles that adorned the throne in the frozen chamber.
"Enough!" He growled at last, turning his icy stare upon the lich who immediately dipped into another bow.
"I am well aware of the events transpiring within my own dominion, lich." The Lich King hissed through clenched teeth.
"Of course, my lord. My sincerest apologies. I only wish to-"
"You only wish to anger me? To incite my fury so that I may strike out decisively against the Argent Crusade once more because it appears that I am weak and unable to keep my 'emotions' in check? Is that what you wish?"
"My lord," Kel'thuzad managed to sound humbled yet still collected and calm all at once. "Your will is my will."
The Lich King had no argument for that, for certainly the lich was the most loyal of commanders, but the statement was vague and mockingly appeasing. In life the necromancer had been decidedly useful, charismatic in the persuasion of mortals, manipulative and bright. But in undeath, he had only become sharper, knowing exactly how far he dare press his Master while still remaining the unswervingly faithful servant, subtly twisting events in his favor whenever the opportunity arose.
Now though, the lich's words had been more than just laced with insolence, they were blatantly edged with derision, painting a wonderfully colorful picture of his Master's failure. Kel'thuzad must have been feeling desperate and trapped indeed if he let his words run away with him so carelessly... or was he so foolish as to think that he was untouchable for he had proven himself time and time again to the Lich King? Unlikely, he had persisted through much.
Regardless, no one dare speak to him in that fashion. No one that valued their existence anyway... Unless you were someone who's very life dangled by a thread at the Lich King's hand, someone who had become important strategically but in other ways as well... and someone who was very much aware of their value. That being might speak to him in such a manner.
The train of thought only renewed his agitation ten-fold. He hadn't yet decided what was to be done about her, and the lich's nagging presence had only dampened further considerations due to his constant prattling and urgings to act.
Despite the passage of weeks, the Lich King's disbelief, frustration and turmoil had not abated. All the questions of how she had done it had been posed time and time again, though he had cautiously avoided the questions of why. Did he simply just not trust himself to determine whether or not the feelings he had felt her convey had been real? Had she merely been acting true to her roguish nature and doing what served her best at the time?
How foolish she was to pass up the chance to reside in the most secure of the Lich King's fortresses, to live a life immortal and full of adventure, to stand so very closely to a being as vastly powerful as him. He wanted to scoff aloud. What did she really know of opportunity then?
No, she'd prefer to be 'free'. Laughable. To her being free was to be alone and miserable, ever unfulfilled in life and purpose. He could have given her existence meaning! Goals and power, a designated place in the darkness that would have settled across Azeroth...
Kel'thuzad watched as his Master retreated inward once again, having a heavy inclination as to what exactly drew him to silence and this 'brooding' so very often. The lich wasn't entirely certain what had transpired between his Master and the human woman, only that the consequences of her actions and now her absence were affecting him profoundly. The only thing the Lich King had ever seemed to care about was power, to conquer and annihilate... surely now that the effects of his inaction were unfolding and his conquest was at risk he would see the folly of this continued emotional weakness...
"My lord, may I inquire as to the purpose of-"
Before Kel'thuzad could begin his tirade again, the Lich King interrupted with a harsh slash of his hand.
"Enough of your continuous dance about the truth in hopes of uncovering some great mystery, lich. Speak your piece plainly. Address your concerns or ask your questions so that I may deem them worthy of an answer or not and I can be rid of your tiresome presence at last." His fingers dug harshly into the icy metal of his seat.
The lich held his skeletal arms out in an apologetic gesture, always serene. "Of course, my lord. I do not seek to waste your time-"
"Then speak and cease wasting it."
He knew better than to continue stalling, as the air would often begin to hum and crackle with energy when his Master grew angry...
"As I stated before, my lord, Scourgeholme has been lost to the Argent Crusade and with this development and the existing strength of their forces located at the Pinnacle I fear that Mord'rethar may be in peril..."
"The Death Gate will hold." The Lich King said dismissively and with an air of over-confidence.
"My lord," Kel'thuzad quietly insisted, "Mord'rethar was nearly taken by the Alliance once already. Icecrown's first line of defense will not hold long if the Argent Crusade-"
"Nearly taken? You forget that that attempt was neatly diffused by the Horde and the everlasting struggle that erupts between them. They will always fight amongst themselves as we already know and have always intended. In fact, the Broken Front was further reinforced with Scourge by the very battle that ensued as they turned to fight one another and the Alliance were caught between us and the Horde. And you think that the Death Gate is in peril?"
The lich was at a loss. How could his Master not see that the circumstances had changed? The Argent Crusade possessed vital territory and with their tournament in full swing it was quite likely the Horde and Alliance might be able to set aside their differences for a time in a conjoined effort against the Scourge. The situation could turn dire very quickly if they weren't careful...
Kel'thuzad opened his fleshless jaw to interject yet again when the Lich King brought a hand to his chin speculatively as though he were thinking aloud.
"However, I do think that further defenses may a prudent choice in a time such as this..."
The lich let out a relieved sigh. "Of course, my lord, whatever you think is best. Might I suggest that we-"
With a sardonic smile, his Master ignored whatever it was Kel'thuzad had been going to say and provided his own solution.
"I think it would be best for you to leave the Dragonblight and bring Naxxaramas to Icecrown."
Kel'thuzad nearly blanched. "But my lord-"
"But nothing!" The Lich King looked almost like he was enjoying himself, the smallest of evil grins adorning his face. "By your own words the Death Gate is in need of reinforcements. Who better than to defend it than you? Why, you practically volunteered, and I couldn't be more pleased."
The lich dipped low in acknowledgement, though he said nothing. He had been more than content to keep his own personal citadel in place in Dragonblight, especially after the destruction of Wintergarde Keep where he could perform his own experiments and rule over his own small section of the Lich King's forces. At least his Master seemed to have broken free temporarily from the disillusioned lethargy that had gripped him, though this hadn't been what Kel'thuzad had had in mind exactly...
Thinking that the meeting was over, the lich turned and began to float from the chamber when the Lich King's rumbling voice washed over him again.
"You have your reservations about bringing my citadel to Icecrown, lich?"
Kel'thuzad stopped, not yet ready to turn as he considered carefully his answer to the trick question.
"Your will, will be done, my lord. It is not my place to question your decisions-"
"I know you do. Just answer plainly."
Drifting back around to face his King, the lich nodded minutely. "Yes, my lord. I have my reservations."
The Lich King nodded, with mock sympathy. "Of course, I can understand that. You've ruled over Naxxaramas in your own isolated section of the world for quite some time... but I think I may have a solution to put your fears to rest there as well."
Kel'thuzad would have swallowed hard then if he could have, though he visibly descended several inches closer to the ground.
With growing momentum the Lich King continued, "There is a great deal of risk involved by you coming to Icecrown if you are to be facing off against the combined efforts of the Horde and Alliance and the Argent Crusade... but you have always been such a loyal asset to me, I wouldn't want to endanger your safety. Your years of service have not gone unnoticed, and because of it I now extend to you an offer... the opportunity to store your phylactery here, in Icecrown Citadel."
Kel'thuzad struggled to keep his visage impassive. His phylactery. A lich's most important possession. The soul of a lich was stored within it, usually hidden away in the most unlikely of places. The lich's corporeal body could be destroyed over and over but it would always reform and return fully as long as the phylactery was in tact. And indeed, Icecrown Citadel was the safest place to store anything and the offer sounded to be perfectly reasonable, but to the astute Kel'thuzad, the veiled threat was obvious.
To refuse such a generous and logical gift would be insolent and could likely result in the loss of power, but to agree... His Master was reaffirming his superiority by making a seemingly undeniable and gracious suggestion that would keep the lich painfully close and obedient. And he had done it just a blink of an eye.
Kel'thuzad could only bow deeply in extreme appreciation. "Your benevolence knows no bounds, my lord." He dared to say with as much honesty as he could muster before hastily departing lest his Master have any more offers to make.
The Lich King smiled to himself once the lich had gone, but it quickly faded as the amusement he had gained from watching Kel'thuzad squirm abated. Perhaps next time the lich would not be so quick to make assumptions on things he knew nothing about and keep the subtle intricacies that were implied in practically every word he spoke in check.
The exertion of control over his minions usually served to improve his mood and further strengthen his sovereignty in their eyes, but his thoughts inevitably turned elsewhere.
He could no longer feel the woman's presence as he could before, but he knew that she remained yet in Northrend. She hadn't in her to flee and live out her life somewhere in seclusion and inactivity and even more so, he didn't believe that she would stray too far from the Lich King's domain. Whether it be from a misguided sense of duty to use her new power against 'evil' or because her feelings simply refused to let her distance herself from the being that had filled the hole in her heart, he knew eventually she would have to reveal herself for her life would be incomplete if she did not.
He had to believe that. His pride didn't allow for otherwise.
-
"Open fire!"
The yell came followed closely by the explosion of cannons, the whirring of harpoons and the subtle hum of magic.
The Alliance flagship, the Skybreaker, reeled and rumbled as Orgrim's Hammer swiftly returned with an attack of it's own and Thassarian was forced to grab hold of the railing near his post to prevent himself from going over the edge.
"Get those shields up!" Chief Officer Leonards cried.
The high elven shield-mages waved their hands in synchrony, conjuring magical, kinetic barriers to protect the ship and it's soldiers from the return fire. As the shields formed and began to be sustained in place, a stray cannon shot blew away an unfortunate Valiance Expedition soldier not but ten feet away from where Thassarian stood.
The death knight muttered a curse and began stumbling his way over to the Skybreaker's Captain who had positioned himself in the aft castle, shouting out orders to his navigator.
Absalan the Pious clutched his holy symbol to his chest as the ship lurched again, praying fervently. "Oh holy Light, bless these men and women, please protect them in this hour of need. Grant us the strength of body and mind necessary to defeat these foes and the illumination to see after who the real enemy is..." The dwarf cleric yelped as a section of wooden stairs were splintered into pieces behind him.
"Aim for their bloody sails! Erm, balloons!"
Thassarian rushed to the Skybreaker's bridge, incredulous that the High Captain had decided to so blatantly and suddenly attack the Horde vessel.
"Are you mad?!" The death knight cried furiously; Justin Bartlett turned to address the noisy interruption.
The High Captain waved him away dismissively. "I have no time for you, death knight!" Without so much as a second glance he continued his orders. "Keep firing! I want that blasted thing blown out of the sky!"
Thassarian came over and placed himself in front of Bartlett at the foot of the stairs as another wave of cannon fire blasted across to Orgrim's Hammer. "Why do you attack them now?! We can do nothing against the Scourge if you and the Horde are constantly at each other's throats! Do you enjoy being Arthas' pawn? Because that's exactly what you're doing, he wants you to destroy each other!"
Before the High Captain could response, a shout came from the Chief Officer on deck. "The Horde ship is damaged! They are retreating!"
"Pursue them!" Bartlett replied, pleased with their advantage.
"NO!" The roar came from Thassarian so suddenly and forcefully that everyone in earshot stopped and stared. Every soldier and crewman on board the Skybreaker knew the death knight to be a dangerous man and none were especially eager to see him angry.
Captain Bartlett's hand drifted to the hilt of his sword as he scowled at Thassarian in rage. "I should kill you where you stand. Have you forgotten so quickly who's captain of this ship? Forgotten which side you're on?"
Intolerance, skepticism and outright hatred were not new concepts to the death knight. He lowered his voice. "I was the first to rejoin the Alliance, and I swore to do whatever was in my power to fight the Scourge. By the King of Stormwind's own decree-"
"The king isn't here." Bartlett said flatly, earning him a sideways glance from several of the soldiers. "You can't play by the rules when your enemy doesn't either. This is war, and the Horde has made their intentions clear."
"You fight your war on two fronts, splitting your forces and leaving yourself vulnerable to the Lich King!" Thassarian argued heatedly.
The High Captain took a step closer to the death knight, giving himself a two-stair advantage which put him right at eye level with the larger man.
"The sooner the Horde are no longer a variable the sooner this war can be done and over with. You think I don't know who the real threat is here? You expect us to press on to Icecrown Citadel itself with those mongrels constantly at our backs? Unless of course you want to see a repeat of what happened at the Broken Front..."
Thassarian cringed as he remembered. The Alliance had been moving in against Mord'rethar when the Horde had appeared from out of nowhere and caught the Valiance Expedition soldiers between them and the Scourge. It had been a slaughter.
"Yes," Bartlett continued with superiority, thinking he had won the argument. "And just yesterday the Horde attacked a contingent of my men stationed on the ground at the base of Ymirheim without provocation."
"Without provocation?!" The death knight growled disbelievingly. "You have bounties out on any and every Horde in Icecrown, rewarding mercenaries who return with their heads! You gun down their messengers daily, you spend the majority of your resources working to sabotage their plans to sabotage us. You are just as guilty of fueling this insane fire as they are!"
The High Captain's hands curled into fists, seething. "If you dislike my methods so very much, I can't help but wonder why you decide to stick around. Oh wait, that's right," he gave a little laugh. "You just want to serve the Alliance, is that it? I think I find it much more likely that you're just here so you can see what we're up to, steal secrets and spy on our movements. Once a traitor, always a traitor, isn't that right?"
As the words left Bartlett's lips, he almost regret saying them for the angry gleam that entered Thassarian's eye spoke of death, but he had to keep face on his own ship and pasted a smug grin on his face.
Every crew member and soldier held their breath and reached for their weapons as Thassarian seized the High Captain's tabard and hauled him close, whispering harshly. "You... know... nothing."
Neither men spoke for a long moment, staring each other down, the air heavy with their words. With a grunt, Thassarian released the man none to gently and turned to leave.
Bartlett considered calling something offensive after him, about how the death knight was going to return to his real Master, but decided he'd rather not goad him any farther, not knowing how far the man might go to defend his honor.
In truth, Thassarian was quite honorable and the High Captain had witnessed that in him as well as the loyalty and eagerness to help in dispatching their enemies. He wasn't sure what had come over him to spur the argument or why he'd accused him of treason but the recent Horde attacks had set Bartlett on edge. Not to mention the damned death knight flagrantly disobeying his orders in front of the entire crew...
Without another word, Thassarian grabbed a bundle from the ship's stores of parachutes and pulled it on. He strode over to the side of the ship and simply leapt off the side.
The crewman all stared at the space the death knight had previously occupied, flabbergasted that he had just jumped off the Skybreaker with no warning or concern whatsoever. Several pairs of eyes looked to the High Captain.
"What are you all gaping at? Get back to work!" Bartlett barked; everyone scurried back to life. "Get started on those repairs!"
He hoped he hadn't driven off Thassarian for good, his work in Icecrown so far had been invaluable.
As the death knight yanked on the cord of his parachute, he looked around to see exactly where the Skybreaker had been flying when he had jumped and where he would be ending up...
Aldur'thar loomed ahead of Thassarian, overlooking the Desolation Gate, Icecrown's second line of defense and a well-established area of known Cultist activity.
Good, he needed to kill something.
Author's Note: Okay, I just need to say one thing... the Black Knight? If you've played at the Argent Tournament, you'll know what I'm talking about. As much I love the Monty Python tribute (the 'It's only a flesh wound' achievement made me giggle), LK decides to send this ONE guy to the tournament to compete in a ill-conceived attempt to 'sabotage' it? Practically every faction is represented there in this uber Light-fest filled with paladins and holiness and peachy goodness, and along comes the Black Knight to try and crash the party... I'm very disappointed in you, LK -.-