My poor, dear, patient readers... I apologize profusely for my absence and lack of updates. Unfortunately, real life happened and will continue to happen for an un-designated amount of time so I am not certain when I will be able to post again. Thank you so much to those that dropped reviews and messages in concern, they didn't go unnoticed and I'm going to continue to try to pump out chapters despite my current situation. Hang in there with me, I haven't forgotten about the story or all of you =)
Chapter 7
"So, Alumeth..." Thassarian began somewhat awkwardly though sporting a boyish grin. "Impressive."
Vaedra looked over at him with a raised eyebrow before shrugging nonchalantly.
His smile slowly faded as they walked in silence above the entrance to Aldur'thar, very close to the place of their earlier unusual meeting.
Their view of Icecrown was a sobering one, barely outlined ramparts visual through the mist, the march of undead across its borders, the threat of the Citadel looming just beyond, just out of reach. And Naxxaramas; the new line of defense of the Death Gate. The Lich King's end goal was always a certain thing, it was the means in which he went about getting there that could often be misleading, and that was something that worried the death knight greatly.
Glancing at his companion from the corner of his eye, Thassarian remained at a loss as to where to begin. His reasons for wanting to come find Vaedra again after learning the truth weren't exactly concrete. He wanted to set things right, true... but there was something more, and an eloquence of speech was never a talent he had been quite able to master.
Half-hoping that the rogue would say something, demanding answers or having questions of her own, he finally took a deep breath to speak when she remained passive and unnaturally quiet.
"Our Highlord, Mograine, is a fantastic leader." He began seemingly off-topic, and Vaedra couldn't help but wonder where he was going with it.
"He is unrivaled in his ability to..." Thassarian struggled to find the right word. "... see things. A gift of Sight, an ability to perceive more than what is just around you, a kind of sense or limited foresight. It is not known exactly how it works or how it came about, but we believe it has something to do with our deaths and the subsequent burst of power we obtain from being reborn as death knights. It is something that all of us have to some degree or another... except me."
The rogue sneaked a quick look at the man next to her, but his expression was flat.
"The Highlord was able to... enlighten me to your situation, something that seems so damn obvious now that it's right in front of me." He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.
There was an awkward pause and it seemed that statement was the closest thing to an apology that Vaedra was going to get. Not that he necessarily needed to make one; the choice had been her own.
"Even while in the Lich King's service and in the time that followed, I felt empathy, something that the other death knights seem to have lost sight of. The need to rejoin the Alliance and help right the wrongs of the Lich King and even myself was great, though not altogether appreciated..." Another sigh from the man.
"Everyone seems to have their own reasons for wanting to see the Lich King's demise, and except for maybe the most holy of paladins those reasons are less than pure. Is there revenge in my heart? Like most death knights I would be surprised if there was not, but Mograine's and the others total disregard for anything but that hatred disturbs me. So I pledged myself to the Alliance once again and where does that lead? Endless squabbling and ceaseless feuds with the Horde. It seems no one wishes to do what is really necessary to battle this threat. Tirion wastes his time trying to unite those that will refuse to see reason or ever be able to set aside their petty prejudices. The Alliance's grand flag ship, the Skybreaker, a potentially lethal weapon against the Lich King's forces is squandered in pointless battle, and I refuse to be a part of it any longer."
Gauntleted hand raked through matted hair severely, and Vaedra waited patiently for the crux of the death knight's ranting to emerge.
Thassarian stopped walking a moment and the rogue's feet halted nearly instantly as well as though she had sensed it before he had. Their eyes met: scrutinizing, wary of course, but also with a mutual understanding, like the symbiotic relationship between two creatures.
"You are not unlike us," The death knight pointed out. "You were forced to serve the Lich King against your own will."
Not exactly true... Vaedra mused to herself, though she said nothing.
"You know what it's like," he continued, "the feelings of helplessness, no ability to control your own actions and working against all that which you hold dear. And even worse for you," pausing with a grimace, "you were aware of it all."
The rogue itched to tear her gaze away from his guiltily, but she held fast.
"The Chosen death knights were blissfully ignorant at first, and it was only later when we broke free that we had time to reflect upon what we had done. But I think now that it's your first-hand experience that will be the key to defeating him at last. Your recent activities are proof of that..." he managed a small smile.
There was a long pause in which nothing was said, and Thassarian waited calmly for her response, taken aback when her stare suddenly turned icy.
"I have no desire to join the Knights of the Ebon Blade, their irrational behavior has been untrustworthy in the past and is too closely knit with the Cult of the Damned for my liking. Not only that but they work closely with the Argent Crusade who are none too apt to forgive my recent betrayals as swiftly as you have and not to mention the Stormwind Assassins--"
"That was never my intention." The death knight interjected, a bit of his new-found calm slipping away. "As I said, I have grown tired of the Ebon Blade's vengeance and unending thirst for pain and I'll have nothing more to do with the Alliance so long as they continue this foolhardy course. No, I was thinking something a bit more... covert."
Vaedra looked at him incredulously.
"You mean, just you and I?"
He nodded with raised eyebrows, as though it had been obvious from the beginning.
"And what do you think to accomplish like that?" A flicker of anger starting to burn.
Thassarian cleared his throat. "Taking the three lines of defense in Icecrown is paramount to the Lich King's demise, and especially now that the Death Gate is guarded with Naxxaramas itself, a full-front assault is not the way that's going to happen." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "You and I can strike at the heart of the gates together, disabling his lieutenants and blocking information from the inside. We'll sever all ties from Icecrown Citadel and--"
"Do you even know what you're saying?" Vaedra blurted. "Have you not seen how he carelessly discards minions without a thought? Without provocation or reason he sucks them dry or has them replaced or annihilates an entire section of his army at his whim." She looked at him pointedly, obviously referring to the still-fresh betrayal at Acherus. "Disabling his puppets will get you nowhere."
Vaedra thought she had struck a nerve until a knowing grin crossed his face. "Hasn't that been what you've been doing?"
She snickered in response, a humorless sound before she shrugged helplessly. "What else am I supposed to do?"
"Nothing." He shook his head. "The destruction of Alumeth is more than anyone else has been able to achieve recently save the taking of Scourgeholme, which I hear you played an integral part in also... We can set events in motion, make contributions to this ongoing battle for when the rest of the players finally get their heads out of their asses."
Thassarian put a reassuring hand on the rogue's shoulder before composing himself and asking confidently, "What say you?"
With but a minor roll of her shoulders, Vaedra sloughed the massive paw away. "No."
The death knight's brow knit together, temper starting to sizzle. "No? What do you mean 'no'?
"I mean," she enunciated deliberately, "that even if you are correct about everything and a difference can indeed be made... I work alone."
Fully intending that to be the end of the conversation, Vaedra began to stride away, leaving a dumbfounded Thassarian behind her.
Gathering his voice and allowing some of the bubbling annoyance rising within him to slip in, he called after the retreating rogue. "And what will you do now? Continue searching in loneliness for that which eludes you? Are you going to let Tayvan's betrayal taint everything you see for the rest of your life?"
Vaedra stopped in her tracks, as though she'd been suddenly splashed with cold water. Turning, she fixed the death knight in her glittering, violet stare.
"What do you even know of it?" She demanded angrily, stalking back towards him.
He had gotten her attention at least, but was displeased that he had to sink so low; the death knight's expression was grim.
"Enough," he countered smoothly. "Enough to know that what happened to you was terrible, and that it shaped you into you who you are now. Betrayal is a difficult thing to bear, but..." he lifted a single brow, "...woman, you need to get over it."
Vaedra nearly sputtered. "If this is the way you set out to recruit my help, death knight, your Highlord Mograine could probably have told you how it would end without his use of Sight."
Eyes like daggers and fingers curling into fists at her side it appeared that the two might come to blows yet again. Vaedra seethed as she contemplated slugging the jerk in his arrogant face.
What does he even know? How can he know what it's like? The emptiness, the pain, the betrayal...
And no sooner than the thoughts had passed through her head did she realize that he did know. He had suffered no less than she had, and the idea was so sobering that for the first time in weeks she felt like weeping.
Her mind drifted to the Lich King, the monster with the icy prison... or the man trapped within a monster? She'd never know... should she weep for him? Or herself? Her heart ached with loss: for Arthas, Mathias, Tayvan... all those that had touched her some way. Did Thassarian also wander the world in need of purpose? His dream to once again serve the Alliance and aid in the destruction of a common enemy had been shattered by the short-sightedness of men... perhaps he needed this as much as she did to find whatever it was that could bring them peace.
The rigidity of her knuckles slowly relaxed, and Vaedra looked at the death knight with new-found wonder. His deep-set eyes that lacked the blue glow of his brethren were rimmed in pain, surrounded by the dark, tainted markings of the Scourge that he still bore. His stance was tense, ready to react in an instant, but he seemed to sense the change in her as well and fell back securely onto his feet.
She wouldn't cry, not here, not in front of him... but it felt as though a doorway had been opened. Perhaps now after all that had happened, she could permit to let someone share in her misery. They didn't need to be the best of friends, hell she didn't even need to like the man... but they had something to relate to, and she'd seen his fighting prowess in combat already...
"I had thought..." Vaedra's eyes slid shut as she stood there looking defeated. "...that time would have healed all my wounds. But it has only made me more aware of the ones that you can't see, and now I have all the time in the world."
Thassarian didn't quite understand the rogue's meaning, but he nodded softly.
Her words seemed to hang in the wind as she warred with herself. Why had she sought out the Lich King's minions after her escape? She knew it was because she couldn't remain idle, but sabotaging the Cultists was her way of contributing to the war without being directly involved with any one faction, and where it would be extremely unlikely of encountering... him. So here, now, with this death knight fighting with himself to remain patient and calm as he waited for her answer, she was forced to make the decision to abandon all of that, the illusion that she could persist as a shadow forever.
It was terrifying.
The words would barely form on her lips; she forced them out. "We must act... you are correct. There's scant few who are making useful progress in Icecrown despite what they might believe. Arthas is only giving them what they want, and they drink it up like livestock. The gates are definitely imperative, and require our attention."
A faint smile touched the man's lips and he nodded again. He truly believed her words, but Vaedra who had been so very close to the Lich King's side and had seen the lengths to which he would go wasn't so certain.
"Come!" Thassarian barked suddenly. "There is much planning to do. Mord'rethar is our first destination, and getting around that damned citadel is going to take... a special kind of maneuvering. We should get back and begin--"
"To where?" Vaedra asked abruptly, feeling panicked.
"I can see to it that your presence is permitted at the Shadow Vault-"
The rogue shook her head fervently before he had even finished. She knew Mathias would be there and wasn't quite ready to face him, her heart clenching painfully at the mere thought.
"Well then, what do you suggest?" The death knight continued irritably, his posture one of impatience.
Vaedra paused a moment, breathing and hoping that she was making the right choice in trusting this man.
"I have a place."
-
With a smile neatly hidden beneath an immaculate blue scarf, Baron Rivendare gazed around the central throne room of Naxxaramas before slowly lowering himself into the large chair. He reclined slightly, relaxing and reveling in his new position.
One would observe the zeal in which the Baron had taken his recent responsibilities to be almost excessive the way he patrolled the citadel in a nearly constant fashion, ensuring that everything was in it's place, that production and experiments and training progressed without incident.
But no one could argue with his methods for he was a gifted strategist, every move had a purpose, a predetermined intention; no effort was squandered. He walked the halls with fluid grace, altering routines and correcting errors as he moved, languidly stroking the colossal figure of Sapphiron in reassurance as he made his way to the heart of Naxxaramas to finally take his seat.
And so he had, much to the dismay and vexation of many of the place's tenants who felt shirked at both their Master's choice and his obvious glee.
His mind a flurry with activity, swirling with plans and ideas and schemes, Rivendare settled back into his chair crossing one leg over the other when a sultry voice came from the doorway.
"Don't get too comfortable now."
Managing to keep the distaste out of his tone and replying as civilly as he could muster, the Baron extended one hand at the wrist and with a minor incline of his head greeted, "Lady."
The swaggering form of Lady Blameux entered, her glowing eyes flickering momentarily to the seated figure and noting that he hadn't stirred even a hair to rise.
Approaching slowly she tried to make her words sound conversational. "I see that you have engraved yourself into your new position rather nicely..." she added with a wry smirk, "...and quickly."
Rivendare's piercing gaze never deviated from her lithe, armored figure. There was no part of him that trusted her and they both knew it. "I would hope, Lady, that all of the Master's servants would approach a new task set before them with equal fervor." His voice was rough but the words were smooth.
Blameux laughed haughtily, throwing her head back a bit, the ornamental and plush material atop her helm flowing out behind her before she cut the noise off abruptly and looked at him dangerously.
"Of course."
Sauntering over to the Baron's side where his mount, Deathcharger, stood peacefully next to the throne, she began to gently run her hands over the skeletal steeds fleshless skull. The horse shifted and stirred uncomfortably, and Rivendare struggled to maintain his composure.
"I only mention it because..." the Lady continued as though there hadn't been a pause, "Kel'thuzad is one of the Master's most trusted advisors. Surely you don't think that your time here is anything more than temporary?" She sounded deceptively sweet as she continued her ministrations, glancing over to make sure that he was still paying attention.
She needn't have feared that for the Baron's dark stare was fixed, attempting to disguise his displeasure at both having the bitch upsetting his mount and wasting his precious time. He took a moment to reply, thinking carefully on what he wanted to disclose. Blameux could be predictable but her ambition and deceit knew no bounds.
Rivendare smirked smugly, "Kel'thuzad grows careless. He believes that the duration of his service and simpering grovels when the Master is displeased allow him certain liberties. But I saw the Master's disapproval, and I know that the lich is wrong. His overly forceful aspirations and constant disobedience will be his undoing, and I believe the Master is doing exactly that, sending the lich on one last errand before he is finally disposed of." He allowed the grin to linger on for a long moment before quickly setting his jaw in a harsh line.
Blameux nodded reflectively. "If that is indeed the case..." she reached up and removed her blue helm allowing the torrent of coiled hair to come tumbling down across her back to reach her rear, a river of black with white streaks. Looking over her shoulder to flash him a dazzling smile she moved to stand in front of the throne, kneeling down between Rivendare's legs. "...then I would like to offer my... services to Naxxaramas' new master."
She looked up at him with what was supposed to be a seductive look, placing smooth, pale hands on either thigh.
The Baron allowed a brief flicker of interest to touch his eyes before he leaned forward and took one of her hands in his armored one and brought it to the cloth of where his lips were concealed.
"My Lady..." he whispered lowly, causing her smile to widen before he suddenly seized her wrist and dragged her forward to meet his abhorrent stare head on.
"Now you listen to me, Lady," he spat the title out losing all trace of his ever-present decorum, eyes flashing, "If you think for even one moment that I'm going to let anyone, especially a conniving, whorish little snake such as yourself stand in my way, than you are sorely mistaken. Naxxaramas has been charged to ME, and me alone. The Master saw fit for this citadel to be under my capable command, and I shall see to it that his every whim is seen to."
Blameux hissed at him before rising to yank her arm away and sneering. "You think you're anything special? You've been rotting away in Stratholme for years while Thane and I and the others have served loyally here. You are nothing, an expendable pawn and nothing more!"
Rivendare settled back into his chair, looking comfortable and self-important. "We shall see, Lady."
Taking a minute to shoot him one more nasty look, the female death knight gathered her helm and stormed from the circular chamber.
"We shall see."