Athese skeletal hands were bound behind his back. His ax and shield had been taken from him, as well as the weapons of his companions. Yjarim had been bound as well with a rough spun wool bag placed over his skull. Their captors led them through Ymirheim, around the giant central mountain that housed Ymirheim's coveted saronite mines. Many of the Vrykish houses had been burned to the ground; few had been untouched or rebuilt. Of living Vrykul there were few, some were working on the repairs of their village, others gripped barbaric looking weapons, eying the dead as their column snaked through their settlement. The majority of the populous of Ymirheim was now undead, huge skeletons that had belonged to the fallen Vrykul, other smaller ones of the ranks of the Scourge. Stone gargoyles perched on the hills and hovels; they looked completely still and lifeless save for the glow of their eyes that told Athese they were very well conscious.
As they marched, Athese looked for banners brandish the black field under the Ebon Blade, but he saw none. What he could see plenty of were white specters standing vigil on banners of sky blue. Athese' fear that they had been captured by the Knights of the Ebon Blade was weakened by this observation, but not completely disposed. The Death Knights who served the Lich King were mostly at Icecrown Citdel, and why one would call himself "Lord of Ymirheim" was beyond Athese. They were lead all the way around the mountain, on the opposite side a large citadel was under construction, still too small to be seen from outside the village are on the other side of the central mountain. In front of the keep was a large pit, with wooden stakes facing inward, and all around them were large wood and iron cages. Athese was placed in the nearest one with Regax, Samm, Thorhad and Hadthor. The rest of the troop was lead into respective cages, all save Yjarim.
Yjarim was taken before the pit. The Death Knight called Breese Soulstride rode up to him and dismounted, one of his undead lackeys took his ghastly steed to be tied up. The bag was removed from Yjarim's skull.
"So Lich" the Death Knight began, but was interrupted by a call from one of his minions.
"That is no Lich my lord."
Breese studied the undead mage before him. The shadows cast upon Yjarim's skull gave him a glaring look as he regarded the undead that had made the comment.
"Very well. Lichling, your warriors have been taken captive, and your hands are bound. I cannot say I know the true limits of your power, though my soldiers seem to think you are not as powerful as I would believe. That being said, I wish to have counsel with you within my keep, can I trust that you will make no attempt on my life with whatever magic's you wield?"
Yjarim stayed calm and collected, giving no sense of wavering nerves in his chilly echoed voice.
"I would gladly join you in your chambers if I am allowed a witness."
From under his saronite steel helm Breese made a face of contemplation.
"Your body guard's hand will be bound, but you are welcome to have one."
Yjarim called for Athese. He stepped to the front of his cage while an undead guard worked at the lock to open the door. As Athese stepped out he wondered what he was supposed to do if any danger befell them within the keep. Though he supposed being the captives that they were their existence was beyond their control regardless.
With their hands bound the two were led inside the maw of the citadel. Inside was dark and the saronite walls were dully illuminated by witchfire torches that burned all the way down the long hall they entered. A handful of paces in the sarotnite walls gave way to the blue rock of the mountain. They were taken up stairs to a large wooden door, reinforced with saronite and hinged in iron. The door swung open with a screech, pushed open by the undead minions that stood watch over the entrance. Inside there was a large a large circular table, surrounded by wooden chairs. The room was much brighter than the halls had been, tapestries brandishing the same specter as the banners outside lined the walls, and a fire crackled in a hearth on the left most side of the square room. The table was mostly uncovered and empty save for a few papers and maps that sat on the far side, where Breese took his seat in a high backed chair. His two captives were forcibly put in two smaller chairs on the opposite sides.
The Death Knight removed his horned helm. Underneath, his skin was pale as milk. His eyes were a pupil-less glow coming from his sockets. He kept a thin growth of hair black as night growing above his upper lip, and a small soul patch below the lower one. His skin clung tightly to his skull leaving his cheeks looking sucked in around his mouth. His forehead was lined and his brow stayed lowered almost constantly making him look as though he never stopped glaring. The hair from his brow extended well past the edges of his face, to his long pointed ears. Though his facial hair was black, his hair was a silvery grey and carelessly fell in a greasy heap to his shoulders. He was silent for a moment after sitting.
"We mean you no harm Lord Death Knight, why have you taken us captive?" Yjarim asked of their captor.
"I will be the one that asks the questions of you prisoner." The Death Knight replied with a snide smile.
"What brings you to my holdfast?" The Knight continued.
Athese decided he would stay silent as the two leaders had their conversation.
"We were seeking the counsel of the Vrykul, we hoped the living may have some answers to the recent… changes."
"Changes? What changes is it that you speak of?" The smile refused to leave Breese' face.
"The Voice, Lord. Commands were coming in less and less as the weeks past. I had noticed that my warriors were starting to feel the changes as we marched toward the Shadow Vault. It was on when we were on a glacier north of here when I noticed most of my company had been freed from control. Though they, as well as myself, still sense a… a presence."
Athese sense a sort of nervousness now in Yjarim, and the smile slowly faded from the Death Knight as his face became more serious.
"It seems you and your troops have not received word. The Lich King, Arthas Menethil is dead."
Athese felt as though he had been kicked in the head. Dead? How? My liege lord… my King… how could this have happened? Athese couldn't say that he felt sad, but the damnable confusion was plenty. Frankly he was sick of it. He could see that Yjarim felt the same way.
"Dead! How?" The lichling asked.
"The Knights of the Ebon Blade and the Argent Crusade joined together, forming the Ashen Verdict. Joined by forces sent by the Horde and Alliance, they stormed Icecrown Citadel. Marrowgar, The Professor, Blood-Queen Lana'thel, even the King… we killed them all."
At that Yjarim stood to his feet, the two guards that had led him in put their claws on his shoulders but he refused to sit.
"WE!? How could that be? You stood with the living as the felled the Lords of the Citadel? You cut down your rightful king!?"
Surprisingly the Death Knight kept calm, and kept his seat, but his voice was cold and firm.
"I am a Death Knight of my own free will, and 'my rightful king' was losing his grip ever since Ner'zhul lost the Forsaken. Arthas was no better losing his Death Knights. I had no choice but to join the Knights of the Blade."
"We spent the entire war fighting you! Break our bones, shatter our bodies and be done with it then!" The lichling was out of patience for the traitor.
"Fool. If I indented to kill you I would have done so already, not waste my time taking your soldiers in to my custody. You see I no longer serve the Knights of the Ebon Blade."
At that Yjarim gave a look of bafflement, and sat back down. The confusion that now faced both him and Athese no longer came from the Changes.
"After the battle for Icecrown Citadel was done, the Ashen Verdict stayed to hold the keep, the Horde and the Alliance packed up taking most of their forces back home. The Ebon Blade returned to their home at the Shadow Vault, many back to Acherus, our necropolis. But with the Lich King dead many of the Death Knights felt that their service in the Ebon Blade was no longer needed, so they set off into the wilds of Northrend alongside any of Arthas' surviving Knights, me included."
"Then the Changes? The presence? What does it all mean?"
"There must always be a Lich King." Was Breese short response, he let that sit in the air for a moment.
"It was Tirion Fordring who laid the killing blow on Arthas Menethil. Some power brought the King's own ghostly father to Icecrown Spire. 'There must always be a Lich King.' He had said. With that it was Tirion who would take up the crown, but he was saved the burden… by an old friend."
"Bolvar Fordragon had been seared by the fires of the Red Dragon flight, giving him life… and death, Arthas had him imprisoned atop the spire. Tirion crowned him himself. It is Bolvar that now sits the Frozen Throne."
Athese and Yjarim both stayed silent, unsure of what to say. The smile came back to Breese Soulstrider.
"The Silent King they call him. The renegade dead all claim the same thing; no voice but they feel him there. Have no doubt he is in control but to what extent I cannot be sure." Yjarim finally found his voice.
"So what do we do? What need does the King have of us?"
"Nothing, clearly. But I will tell you this. Those Death Knights who stayed in Northrend are gathering all the dead that they can to their banners, the war against the living may be over but the war of the dead has just begun. Small pockets of Horde, Alliance, Ebon Blades, and Crusaders still hold out across the land, but it is all ripe for the taking. So I ask of you brothers. Will you join to serve under the Watchful Specter of Lord Soulstride?"
Athese did not wait for the lichling to respond, he had stayed quite for too long.
"You are a traitor and a deceiver. You took up arms against your rightful king and saw to his death, how could you expect any of the Scourge to follow you?"
For the first time Breese regarded Athese, their sight locked, but Athese refused to falter.
"You are not as resentful as I had expected, when the Forsaken we're released they immediately took up arms with Sylvanas Windrunner, to see to the Lich Kings demise."
Yjarim spoke up; his voice was cold as always, but slow, almost sad, perhaps defeated.
"The Forsaken resented what they had become, and blamed the Lich King. They all remembered the families they lost, the lives they once lived. The cloud of the King's rule has stripped that from me and all those I march with. As far as we are concerned we are Scourge and faithful to the king." For the first time Athese thought of life, he had never even considered the life he had once had, that any of them once had. What had he been when blood still flowed through his veins? Before his heart had rotten and fallen from his chest? No thoughts came to him to help.
"What we are now cannot change what we were. But think on this. When a king can no longer defend his people, he loses them. I did not help kill the King, I helped crown a new one, a better one, more rightful then Arthas had become."
"A silent one." Athese broke in.
"His silence allows your freedom! Have you been in servitude for so long that you forgot the joys of not having a voice bid your every move? Of course. I had to fight for my freedom! I had to push the voice from my head, deny it as the power of the Lich King shot pain through my every limb. You… you were released, you had to fight for nothing." Breese words were cold and harsh, and every one true. These past few days had been the first time his thoughts were his own; he had memories now, and conversation. He could acknowledge the fact that he understood words and command without a voice in his head commanding him. The slaughter on the glacier, it had been so… good, the freedom. Athese new the Death Knight was right, though at the moment Athese refused to admit to it.
"So then, what is it that you plan to do Death Knight?" Yjarim broke the silence with.
"I am calling all undead to my banner, hopefully I can even get some Death Knights to give up their own ambitions. My hold here in Icecrown is strategic, from here plan to take this whole frozen mountain. Northrend is torn apart by petty Death Knights all looking for their King's respect. I shall earn it and bring peace to this land… all in the name of Bolvar of course." Breese smiled wide now.
All in the name of Bolvar, Athese thought to himself. War with his new free will would be interesting and he found himself yearning for a good fight. He leaned toward Yjarim.
"Let us join him, if the King stays silent what else are we to do? And if he denies his rule then we are there to fight for a just Lord." He whispered.
Yjarim leaned away.
"Your lordliness is kind to offer this to us, and I do believe the soldiers are ready for conquest. In the name of the Silent King we shall help you establish order, an undead needs his purpose."
"Agreed." Breese smiled. Athese and Yjarim were raised from their seats and the bindings on their hands removed.