A Meeting in the Dark
Baron Rivendare grinned as he surveyed his three lieutenants and comrades in arms.
First, was Lady Blaumeux, the Dark Lady of the Scourge, a title to which she clung to jealously, and which caused no small enmity toward the Banshee Queen Sylvanas, who dared claim the same title. Just like the traitorous elf-bitch, and the rest of the occupants in the room, the pale skinned sorceress had managed to retain much more of her former human guise, and the Baron leered appreciatively at the soft curves present through the soft midnight silk of her robe. Of moderate height and build, she was –despite appearances- perhaps the deadliest of the three and the one to whom Rivendare, if not feared, then was most wary of. Unlike her cohorts, Blaumeux practiced not necromancy, but dark sorcery, the kind of which that mystified even the veteran death knight. Though incapable of raising the dead, with a wave of her hand she could strip the flesh from the bones of her foes, and summon blasts of dark fire with a mere thought.
The second was Kor'thazz, former Thane of the Wildhammer Clan, and the smallest of the four. Adorned in the very armor in which he was slain, he refused all suits of Scourge origin, instead keeping to the grey-steel mail of his former life. Giving some proof to Rivendare's belief that necromancy worked best with the humans to which it was designed to corrupt and with the orcs to which it was originally mastered, the Thane was silent in most cases, speaking only if called upon, and utterly unemotional in every situation. Unlike Rivendare, who preferred to fight mounted; Kor'thazz's shadowy steed was often used for transportation only, disappearing into a thin wisp of wind, as soon as the undead dwarf entered combat.
The third, and final, member was Sir Zeliek. By all appearances it was to him that Rivendare bore most resemblance, both clad in the armor of a death knight, bearing the sword of a former paladin, preferring to fight with mount and blade like the knights of old Lordaeron. He was also the man whom, of the three, Rivendare disliked the most. For Sir Zeliek had a very unique, and infinitely insufferable ability. He could still wield the Light.
So, filled with conviction when slain by Kel'tuzad following the events at Mt. Hyjal, the archlich had been forced to weave the man's powers with that of the necromancers own, forging him into a death knight of the most peculiar kind. And it had not left the man's psyche unaffected, for though he willing served in the slaughter of innocents, he often became sentimental, allowing his opponents to duel him one on one in battle in exchange for freedom. Of course, none had come close to besting him, but it had become almost a habit of those surviving humans to sacrifice one from their fold to Zeliek, while the women and children and others escaped during the stand-off.
"Indeed, Baron," sauntered Blaumeux, her tone a mixture of mockery and flirt, "It has been far too long."
Her dark red black eyes bored into Rivendares own, and despite himself, Rivendare was forced to fight down the urge to shift uncomfortably. There was something – unsettling about those eyes.
"I don't know," said Zeliek good naturedly, "I was rather having fun hunting down those knights in Gilneas. They tend to put up a far better fight then the wayward village "champion" here in Lordaeron."
Kor'thazz simply sat silent.
Rivendare shook his head, "Business before pleasure Zeliek." He turned to face Blauemeux, "Though I must note a certain pleasure in seeing your lovely visage again."
He flashed a toothy smile as he stared at the sorceress, making it clear that he held no fear of her.
"Fair enough," replied Zeliek either missing or ignoring the exchange, "And speaking in the interest of speeding up business. Perhaps, I should be the first to make my report?"
Rivendare nodded his consent; in truth he was most interested in the goings and comings of the lands farther south, and Gilneas in particular.
Zeliek nodded and withdrew a map from somewhere in his armor placing it out on the table for all to see, "The land of Gilneas is, too put it lightly, a very dark place right now."
Zeliek paused for a moment to see if any would laugh at his pun. When naught by dreadful silence greeted him he hurried quickly along. "Worgen have somehow managed to cross over Greymane's Wall. How, even I can't imagine, as we've been trying to find a way for months and have yet to succeed. They've begun infesting the local forests, and have been successfully terrorizing the many common-folk there. Still, though the renowned Black Army of Gilneas seems rather incompetent in the deep thickets of their realm, they continue to patrol the roads in force, and any group of Worgen thus far willing to strike past their natural havens has met a gruesome death."
He indicated the areas on the map where the Worgen had been found, marked as they were by a thin wolf skull. Rivendare, meanwhile, mulled over the information. Contrary to popular belief, the Worgen were not of the Scourges make, instead a form of bestial lycan summoned through forbidden arts by the former Kirin Tor Archmage Arugal. Cunning far beyond what their wild forms would indicate, it seemed no place was secure from their packs, and though they preferred live flesh, numerous undead patrols had been found ravaged by tooth and claw across Lordaeron, indicating that they held no fear of undeath.
"While I must assume that most of central Gilneas is secure, the coastline is an utter disaster. As you know, most of the Gilneas fleet was destroyed by a Scourge fleet –which was in turn destroyed. King Greymane has pulled what remains of the fleet and set it to guard the trade route of their capital, a fitting prioritization considering, but one that has left many of the coastal villages without any means of protection. "
He indicated the vulnerable areas of coastline on the map, "This has allowed many raiding ships, including my own, to slip unto Gilneas soil. We cannot proceed too far inland, for Genn is not a total fool, and he has his army out in force setting up check points and the like. But, provided we remain close to shore, we are generally capable of moving about at will, and without much concern."
"Are you insinuating," hissed Blaumeux, "That the entire Gilneas shore is open to naval invasion? That an army could march ashore completely unopposed?"
"No, not completely. Kul'tiras has stepped up to replace the ships lost by Gilneas, likely more out of concern of debilitating our efforts then any form of friendship toward the country itself. But their fleet, while still one of the largest in existence, is a mere ghost of its former strength. The ships patrolling look for a sizable invasion, not tiny landing craft."
"But it would be possible," reinstituted Blaumeux, "To launch a successful invasion by sea?"
"Absolutely. But frankly it is not the landing that concerns me, the Black Knights of Gilneas are hardly what they are cracked up to be; but their forces are disciplined and well equipped. In fact, I'd say they would be much like the armies of Lordaeron that we'd have faced, had the Cult of the Damned through Kel'tuzad genius –and your own Rivendare- not so completely crippled the nation."
"What do you suggest then Zeliek?" asked Rivendare ignoring the death knight's praise.
Zeliek leaned back shrugging, teasing a golden lock of hair on his head, "Let the nation destroy itself. Greymane has thus far seemed more than willing to stand-by and allow his nation to die a slow painful death. I see no reason to stop him from proceeding as such."
Rivendare nodded, sensing the wisdom in Zeliek's words and hating him for it. It was so much easier to imagine the light haired death knight as a simpering chivalrous fool, but the truth was that he was at this table for a reason, and he knew much in the way of dark subtle tact.
Zeliek's words were met with similar nods from the others and Zeliek withdrew his map to signify that his report was complete.
"More exact details can be provided later Zeliek, but for now, good work."
Rivendare turned to face the dwarf lord, "And you Thane Kor'thazz? What news do you bring from the east?"
The undead warrior cleared his throat before he spoke, clearly attempting to imitate the sound of grinding stones. "I bring news from our efforts against Ty'rs Hand. The Scarlet Crusade has the city decently fortified and it can be assumed that any direct assault would require extensive efforts."
Rivendare grimaced slightly at the death knight's use of the term "fortified". Though obviously unimpressive to dwarfkind, Tyr's was a veritable vanguard by human standards.
"Their forces under General Abbendis are effective. By sending out hard hitting and heavy patrols versus a sizable mass, and rotating them at random but consistent intervals, they have kept up significant pressure on our forces while suffering few casualties themselves. When any significant numbers are brought to bear, they simply retreat back into the city, and we do not have the troops necessary to wage a constant siege."
The dwarf's voice was flat and matter-a-fact, utterly without opinion. "Furthermore, troops from the Argent Dawn have pushed into the area and occupied the former Silverlight Church. It is the second largest chapel in Lordaeron, overruled only by Alonsus Chapel in Stratholme. They have forged mostly south, securing roads and villages in the general direction of Tyr's Hand."
"Obviously an attempt by the fools to unite their forces," interjected Blaumeux.
The Scourge Thane was silent as she spoke but immediately resumed as if she hadn't whispered a word, "I have ordered our remaining forces to Corins Crossing, and reinforced the area with undead from Darrowshire and the Goremaw in the blighted fields.
"Wait a moment!" interrupted Blaumeux again, "Didn't we just agree that this is an attempt to unite their forces? How can you pull back and allow them to coordinate?"
"Blaumeux has a point," noted Zeliek, "I know you dwarves like to dig into your holes but the Scourge has thrived on our ability to remain a step ahead of our enemies, dividing their forces."
The Baron was silent as Kor'thazz turned to address the pair. He had already figured out the dwarf's logic, and he silently applauded his thinking.
"The enemy can unite as much as they want. They cannot breach Corins Crossing. The attempt would cost thousands of lives and the living cannot replace their dead. They must depend on decisive victory. Something we have been giving them plenty of in the last few weeks," at this point Rivendare could almost strain to hear a thread of annoyance in his tone, "Their forces are trapped now, inert and useless, it doesn't matter what they do."
Zeliek gave an appreciative laugh and might have attempted to slap the dwarf on the back had the thanes red eyed stare not so quickly disenchanted him of the idea. Blaumeux, for her part, merely sizzled quietly in rage as she was shown up by the dwarf.
"Excellent thinking as always Kor'thazz," murmured Rivendare quickly, hoping to stem an outburst from the black sorceress, "And you Dark Lady?" He added in the meaningless title in hopes of calming her, "What information have you for us?"
The female Rider took a few moments to compose herself before softly hissing, "I bring word from the west."
"Ah, the west," sighed Rivendare in sojourn.
Not that the news thus far had been disheartening –far from it, for it merely confirmed how futile the efforts of the humans were- but the west was always malicious tale unto itself. With only the isolated Scarlet settlements of Hearthglen and Mardenholde located in the far west, the land was completely under the domain of the Scourge and the site of a significant amount of their plots. From the four great plague cauldrons constantly corrupting the land and raising the dead, to Sorrow Hill; the site of Lich Kings great victory over Uther Lightbringer, to the undead city of Andorhal, and the underground necromancer fortress of Scholomance, the land was a literal nightmare on Azeroth.
"Everything proceeds as planned," she whispered as if daring anyone to disagree with the statement, "Araj continues his work in Andorhal, raising undead through the use of the great plague cauldrons, and has already begun to pressure the Scarlet Crusade to the northwest. As we speak a large force under the command of Captain Dargol leads a force of numerous thousand toward Hearthglen. It will only be a matter of time before they are obliterated completely."
She stopped for a moment then before continuing almost hesitantly, "We have had some…strange… rumors arising from Caer Darrow. It appears many of our loyal subjects been disappearing there and despite all attempts, no cause has yet to be found regarding the source."
Rivendare grimaced slightly. Was it too much to ask that he receive nothing but good news? "How many undead?"
"Dozens, possibly a hundred in all."
Rivendare nearly burst out in laughter at her response. Perhaps a hundred? The Scourge numbered in the tens of thousands strong! What were a few hundred lost zombies to them? Still, it was probably wise to not tempt the humor of the woman, considering her current state.
"That's fine. As long as it is no more than that. Now, is that all you have to report?"
Blaumeux bristled. Of course that wasn't all she had!
"There is the matter of my…project in Scholomance."
"Project?" asked Rivendare sharply. He was not aware of this.
Blaumeux smiled beneath her cowl, "Oh yes. A very important one if I do say so myself."
"Do not feel bad Baron," her voice was sultry now, a tone she only took when she knew she had the upper hand, "Only Kel'tuzad and my cohort were ever informed."
"And what, darkness tell, was this experiment?" asked the Baron through gritted teeth. "And your vaunted 'cohort'?"
"My assistant was Master Ghandling."
Master Ghandling of the Necromancers. It was he who led the human cultists and apprentice necromancers in Scholomance. Now half-mummified, he had been a discovery of Kel'tuzads back when the archlich himself had still been mortal. A prodigy-child in Hillsbarad, Ghandling was now perhaps the most powerful mortal in the Scourge.
"If you will permit me," asked Blaumeux, "I'd like to invite another guest into our hall."
Zeliek and Kor'thazz curiosity were obviously piqued and they looked for Rivendare to grant consent. By Rivendare's command this meeting room was to only hold the Riders, and allowed access to no other. It was a mix of practically and formality, though mostly the latter. There was no real harm in breaking it, though it was a slight to the death knight leader.
Very well, thought Rivendare, we shall play your game Blaumeux.
"Of course, of course," replied Rivendare, with a flippant twist of his hand.
Blaumeux gave a mocking bow then and turned. Obviously sending out a silent command there was a momentary rustle at the door. After a moment it burst open revealing a great iron figure. It was tall, nearly nine feet, almost the height of an abomination though far less so in width. The metal was of the dark blue persuasion, with a horned helmet that curled to the side and then forward as if met for goring. The things face was helmeted with only a thin dotted visor.
"An automaton?" gasped Zeliek questioningly.
Blaumeux almost giggled as she removed the creature's gauntlet revealing soft flesh beneath. Soft pink flesh.
"It's alive?" demanded Rivendare, "It's human?"
"Impossible," objected Zeliek, "Humans do not grow to such a size."
Blaumeux let out a small laugh, "They do when they've been enchanted with sorcery and necromantic magic's."
"Let me explain," she continued, "Necromancy, like every magic, is a matter of energy. The energy needed to raise the dead, the degree unto which they are raised, and of course, their ability to maintain that undead. Generally, the raising and maintaining of undead in any great number, leaves the quality or degree to which they are raised in question."
"Even creatures such as abominations," she continued, "Must be hand-crafted, taken together by many different lesser undead, and sewn together to create a greater creature."
"Beings like us are one in a thousand, especially chosen due to our strengths and skills. The energy needed for beings like us simply too great to commit to on a large scale."
"But!" Blaumeux raised her hand now, "What if the first and last could be skipped? If the raising and the maintaining of undeath was unneeded?"
She motioned to the armored giant, "What if the subject was alive?"
"It was really Kel'tuzads idea. Turning the living into undead via plagued grain. Thousands upon thousands of people turned into flesh eating ghouls and zombies."
"But that's the point. They were dead," said Zeliek, "The power of raising was converted to the energy of conversion and then ingested manually. We still end up having to domineer their minds and maintain their bodies. It started the process but was hardly a formula meant to last forever."
"Indeed. And what I speak of is hardly a new plague. Instead, it's an adaptation of the Lich Kings original will. The conversion of the living to the dead, but, in this case only a small fraction."
She paused for effect and then finished, "Namely the brain."
"You can restrict the plague to a single piece of the body?" asked Kor'thazz stunned, the revelation breaking even his sordid silence.
"Well," explained Blaumeux, "I won't say the method was easy, nor truly applicable to the masses. But yes, in practice we have proven it possible. It's simply a matter of refining the process."
"So this thing is –in realistic terms if not technical- dead?" asked Rivendare.
Blaumeux nodded, her eyes dark eyes rippling, "Indeed. As you know controlling the dead is really only an issue when it is done by the thousands in which we must control them. But with these we would not require such an extensive will. When enhanced by my black magic –magic's that would ravage the weaker frame of skeletons or ragged ghouls- a dozen can accomplish what it would take a hundred to do."
Rivendare laughed then. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect! Credit when credit is due, he thought to himself. Rising to his feet he applauded and the action was quickly taken up by the others at the table.
"You truly are the Dark Lady of the Scourge Blaumeux," commended Rivendare, "And make sure to pass on my wholesome regards to Master Ghandling for his assistance."
Blaumeux gave a playful curtsy and nodded, "Your praise is much appreciated."
With that she took her seat, and all eyes turned to Rivendare.
Rivendare nodded then, standing in turn, "Well, I must say it will be difficult to top our esteemed death knight's experiment."
He gave another deferential nod toward Blaumeux.
"But I do have some news," he grinned, "Something that I think you will find most interesting."
"Kel'tuzad has returned from Northrend."
A/N: Shorter then I had originally intended though it was eleven pages. I felt as if the last four pages were more tacked on to the current theme so I've gone ahead and rolled them into the next chapter. If you are interested in reading more drop a review! :D