Chapter 5
Necri waited until they were away from the Royal Quarter of Undercity before asking, "So, who is this Carendin Halgar?"
"I don't even recognize the name," Ropart shook his head. "I spend very little time in the city. So we're going to just head for the Arcane Quarter and ask around."
They made their way under low stone arches and along narrow walkways beside a stagnant moat of algae-laden water, which seemed to roughly follow the circular outskirts of the city's central chamber. They walked along the outside edge of the moat's circle, slowly working their way around Undercity's perimeter. Across the slimy stream, the inside of the curve held the teaching-alcoves she had seen earlier.
She pointed. "What are they doing there?"
"Those are the crafting areas. It is the way we share our skills and knowledge with others. Each citizen of Undercity must contribute some form of skill or resource to the community, but not all the risen can remember what they did in life. So, we provide them with teachers, trainers and places to practice. You said you are an Enchanter? You might wish to introduce yourself in the Apothecarium, once we are done."
The word was new to Necri, so she asked Ropart about it.
"I don't know much about the place. Like I said, I don't spend a lot of time down here. But I know that's where the Alchemists and Transmuters go to practice their trades.
"If I am to stay here, and be part of this community, it would certainly be a good idea. We likely have much to teach each other."
They walked on in relative silence after that. After half an hour, their path opened into a large cavern. It was almost half the size of the central trading area, and dominated by a stepped, green-lit pyramid carved from stone and decorated with the skulls of many creatures. Mystical circles in various shades of glowing ink lay scattered around the base of the pyramid.
Ropart's voice was hushed. "Some of the structures are from the time the Scourge occupied the sewers of Lordaeron. They enlarged the existing tunnels and carved strange features. We've removed some, but the most practical ones were left intact."
As they neared the pyramid, silence pressed down on them like a felt blanket, broken only by an occasional chant or spell. Several undead clustered near the circles, deep in unheard conversation. A single elderly-seeming male stood by himself, glaring intently at the newly-arrived pair.
"Let's ask him where Carendin is," Necri nudged Ropart. "He certainly seems interested enough in us."
Ropart nodded, and the two headed in that direction. The man's scowl deepened as they approached.
It seemed impolite to break the oppressive silence in the area, so Necri waited until they were quite close before greeting him. He was undead, like everyone else, his hair white and stringy. He wore a threadbare red and black robe, and and a blood-red mist leaked from the gen set into the upper end of his staff.
"Good day, sir-", Necri began.
"It most certainly is -not-", the man interrupted, spitting his raspy words like sparks.
Necri paused, not having expected such vehemence, and decided to keep things simple and short. "We are looking for Carendin Halgar."
"Why?" His eyes narrowed.
Ropart interjected, "Because the Banshee Queen ordered us to!"
"Faugh! You're one of those Caretakers, aren't you?" The man turned away from them with a dismissive wave. "What's this then, another newcomer to train? We don't need 'em. Go take up knitting or something!"
"No, I most certainly will -not-." Necri's voice was quiet, but forceful.
"Maybe you didn't -hear- me, lady. We're not taking any more of you bored, talentless idiots. Get lost!" He turned his back on the pair and crossed his arms over his chest.
Necri kept herself outwardly calm, but inside, she let the dark power begin to simmer, feeding on her irritation. "Your Queen," she stressed the word significantly, "who is now also -my- Queen, sent me with specific instructions-"
"I don't-"
"Listen!" she hissed, cutting off his interruption and thrusting her face to within inches of his. "My instructions are to find Carendin Halgar, such that he could evaluate my control over my summoned minions. I am no 'newcomer' to the arcane arts, to be dismissed like an apprentice, and I take my recently-given loyalty -extremely- seriously. You -will- either identify yourself as Carendin, or tell me where he might be."
"Fine, you obnoxious twat. I -am- Carendin. Let's get this over with." He jabbed a bony finger at the nearby arcane circle. "Summon an imp - if you can - and I'll watch your technique."
Necri straightened her back and stretched her limbs. She had no intention of summoning an imp. While certainly annoying when left to their own devices, the tiny creatures were amongst the least of their kind, and presented no challenge at all to her.
She collected her power, and stretched out a hand to touch the magical aura emanating from the circle, gently entwining it through her fingers. Then, she flipped her wrist, clutched her hand into a tight fist to solidify the connection, and hissed the words of the summoning spell: "Au ak'jir yo'tat Shivarra!"
The circle blazed with violet light. Carendin's face opened in shock as he understood what she was doing, but by then it was too late. Uncoiling in the centre of the circle was a tall, six-armed female humanoid, four of its hands wielding twin greatswords of jagged silver and liquid green poison. Its bruise-coloured skin, bloodied fangs, and blazing eyes ensured it would never be mistaken for a 'natural' creature, despite its voluptuous curves. The Shivarra usually acted as leaders of vast hordes of demons; seducers and controllers that often reported directly to the great pit lords. They -hated- to be summoned. To be able to force one to appear was a direct expression of the power of the arcanist's will.
Necri's job was not done. As Sylvanas had known, there was a world of difference between -summoning- a demon and -controlling- it. She concentrated on the binding ritual, forming magical chains around the Shivarra's seething spirit that would force the creature to obey her will.
And obey her, it must. "Bow to this one," she ordered it, pointing at Carendin. "Then kneel."
Above all else, demons loathed to abase themselves before mortals. They saw themselves as perfect beings, the ultimate in creation, fated to rule the entire cosmos. To kneel before such a lesser creature would be akin to a human paying homage to an insect. Only complete control could drive such an act. Yet this was exactly what the Shivarra did. Necri did not miss the murderous glare the creature gave her.
"Show-off," she heard Carendin mutter.
Necri paced a full circle around the demon. "And my bindings?"
"Your style is archaic, but effective," he grudgingly admitted. "I see no flaws. Who taught you?"
"Elves," she whispered simply. "Do you have a dagger I could borrow?"
Frowning in confusion at her, Carendin pulled out a cheap iron ritual dagger, dulled and pitted from use. She took the weapon, and once again walked around the still-kneeling demon until she was behind it. She took a moment to familiarize herself with the heft of the dagger; it was a poor tool for what she had planned, but the symbolism was far more important than the physical form anyway. With some effort, she opened her mind's eye and forced her aura to extend down the handle and into the blade.
After that preparatory work, the spell itself was simple: "Ko'tar'i yo'tal gh'ehen!" She plunged the dagger into the surprised Shivarra's back, feeling the shock as her aura was surrounded by its poisonous corruption. But before the demon could react to the sudden attack, its life-force and latent magic imploded violently into the blade, through it, and into Necri herself. The demon's desiccated husk crumpled to the ground, where it quickly decayed into dust.
Necri closed her eyes and let the influx of power rush through her. Every fibre of her being hummed with it. Forcing herself to concentrate despite the overwhelming feelings, she carefully and tightly wove the extra energy into her aura. Because she had sacrificed such a powerful demon, even her senses were enhanced; when she opened her eyes again, every feature of the cavern was etched in impossibly-intricate detail. She could even make out the great line of ley energy that passed through the pyramid, where it was coiled and caught for use by the arcanists there. Virtually everyone in the cavern was now staring directly at her, including a few notable recent arrivals.
She turned slowly back to Carendin, whose face was frozen in shock and anger. Rather than speak using her damaged and decayed vocal cords, she flared her aura outward, projecting her words with her much stronger telepathic voice: And what are your thoughts now, arcanist? Do my skills pass muster?
Carendin's temper flared. "There's no Blood Elf, alive or dead, that casts bindings like that!" he roared, pointing a shaking finger at her.
I never claimed it was a -Blood- Elf. She let a resonant chuckle creep into her thoughts. I was one of the first one hundred humans taught to use arcane magic by the High Elves of Quel'Danas, in order to defeat the Amani Trolls. Together, we commanded vast elemental energies, but after the war, we were left to our own devices. It was -my- idea to speak with a captured demon of the Burning Legion, first to contract with it, and later to steal its power outright. I became immortal as a result, and my magic ... changed.
A clear voice rang out through the chamber. "I think we've seen and heard enough, don't you agree, Carendin?" The spectators all whirled around and bowed low as the Queen strode forth to stand near to the three. Two of her advisors, including the Blood Elf Ambassador Sunsorrow, accompanied her. Necri was not surprised; she had felt their presence earlier. She turned to the Queen with deliberate slowness and bowed.
"My Q-queen!" Carendin stammered. "What she claims is preposterous!"
"Yet given this display of her abilities, I am inclined to believe her."
Sunsorrow shot Necri an inscrutable look, then whispered urgently in the Queen's ear. Knowing that he was able to see her aura, Necri did not attempt to use her stolen power to overhear him. The Queen responded with a nod, and turned to Necri. Her voice carried through the chamber. "You are free to go, Necri. I would not be surprised if many individuals here had questions for you, but it is your choice when, or if, you respond to them. I know you have your own important quest ahead of you. In the meantime, should you need anything, I am sure that Carendin and the other arcanists will be -pleased- to assist you." The word was deliberately stressed to ensure that it would not be misinterpreted as a request. "Caretaker, it is time for you to return to your duties." With that, the Queen and her advisors left the chamber.
Simultaneously recognizing the inevitable and protecting her from it, Necri noted in appreciation. She was now essentially alone in a strange world, but rather than feeling lost at the prospect, she was excited. She had tasks and mysteries before her, and the freedom to meet them head on.
Ropart approached her. "As you heard, I have to go. But before I do, please accept this." He pressed a small pouch into her hand. "Though we do not sleep or eat, it is easier to get started in the world with a few coins to your name." Necri felt the comfortable weight of the pouch and nodded in thanks.
Ropart bowed and left, and Carendin stalked off, glowering. A dozen other individuals hovered at various distances. Necri knew she could easily turn her back on them and play the standoffish, mysterious foreigner, but she needed them as allies.
Come forward, then she offered telepathically. But if anybody asks stupid questions like 'is it true?', that will be the end of it.
Slowly, hesitantly, the dead ones drifted closer to her. Some were awed, others curious, a few doubtful. One in particular, a female wearing the tattered remnants of a bridal gown, shambled carefully forward and bowed awkwardly. She was missing half of her left arm, and by the way the dress freely hung, probably most of her abdomen as well.
"Would you teach us?" Her words were slow and laboured, though not confined to a whisper like Necri's. There was a murmur of assent from the others.
How I obtained this power, cannot be taught. Necri shook her head. While I still lived, I signed a contract with a demon. From that contract I obtained power and immortality. Certain aspects of the contract were shown to be mutable, and it is from these parts that I gained my ability to summon, command, and sacrifice the demons who thought to lord themselves over me. My lack of attention to -other- sections turned my expected eternal youth into this state of undeath. I consider myself to have been skilled, prepared, and relatively lucky. I have seen many others fail miserably while attempting to follow in my footsteps. Those failures tend to have ... damning consequences, and do little but strengthen the Burning Legion's armies.
A voice shouted from the back. "But we are Warlocks! We also summon demons!"
Unless I am mistaken, you do so using established procedures, under controlled circumstances, until you can reliably demonstrate your skill to your instructors?
There was a murmur of agreement through the crowd.
Then continue to do so. Listen to your teachers. -That- is the method by which you can learn. Necri raised her telepathic voice for emphasis. Demons are intelligent, cunning, and entirely malevolent. When dealing with them, there are no shortcuts without dire consequences. Remember this.
She turned to walk away, ignoring the groans of disappointment, then paused. But there are certainly techniques you can use to reinforce your bindings and improve your control. Perhaps, once I have completed my tasks, I will return to demonstrate some of them. -If- your teachers agree.
With that, she walked away from the group, leaving them to their discussions.
-End Part 1-