I am alive! It's just school, you know, it's... it's... SCHOOLish! You guys just keep on my case, I'll upload, I promise!
This chapter was rewritten a good 4-5 times and I was never completely satisfied with it ;) That's what took so long. And school, of course. I'm gonna work on getting the next Children of Aiur fic up soon, but with everything I have to do, it could take 10 minutes or 10 months, who knows!
I don't really have any new fanart. Since I last uploaded, I put up some images for my novel, as well as a picture of Sasha (from Children of Aiur) and a concept of Kay(from Children of Aiur). In a couple minutes, I'm going to upload a new computer painting that has to do with my novel, a practise spar between Avian and her mentor! BWAHAHAHAH!
Also, I am enjoying Spore in the few off-moments I get to play it.
Epic Fail
Zangarmarsh, Outland
Zul'vii was growing fond of the Zangarmarsh. It was a strange place, but all quite beautiful with its glowing insects and blue mushroomy ambiance... Oh, and then there were the sporelings! Sporelings were an adorable people that stood no higher than a gnome. They closely resembled tiny tree stumps, covered in all kinds of strange glowing fungi. Even Ember seemed to like them, and would often help them out and get Zul'vii embroiled in some bizarre misadventure.
Sort of like their current escapade! Zul'vii and Ember were currently escorting a fungal giant and a sporeling into naga territory, to retrieve something called the "Ark of Ssslith." In Zul'vii's humble opinion, nothing in the world could legitimize the use of a single letter three times in a row- but then, that was naga for you.
"Zul'vii?" Ember asked curiously. "There are naga here… But I've only ever seen naga with uncle Illidan. Do you think they work for him?"
The half troll thought briefly about the character of Lady Vashj. Zul'vii had never been on good terms with the naga leader. In her opinion, Vashj was a very selfish, jealous, and fanatical person.
"It's possible," Zul'vii decided. "But the naga are not a kind people. They probably wouldn't help you get to Illidan. Heck, they'd probably aid Archimonde."
"Oh," Ember said, somewhat disappointed. "I really miss Illidan. I wish we didn't have to go to Nagrand."
Zul'vii looked down at the small child for a moment and then gave her a gentle pat on the head. "We don't have to, you know. We could head straight for the Black Temple. For Illidan."
Much to her surprise, Ember shook her head. "Not safe," the girl said. "I saw Illidan. And he reminded me of Archimonde. It was scary."
Zul'vii gave a worried frown, and turned away to throw a tomahawk into an approaching naga. The axe blade collided headlong with the creature's skull, and split open its head like a watermelon.
Seeing that Zul'vii was distracted, Nana zoomed up to her and began raiding her pockets for food. The half-troll sighed and patted the nether ray affectionately. Ember looked at Nana and sighed. They spent the rest of their day in silence.
Theramore
Nobundo had decided that he liked Theramore's cuisine. As was his habit, he chose to eat a relatively plain meal- something that average peasants had available to them. To his surprise, the main diet of Theramore citizens consisted of rich pasta (because it shipped well), fish, and shellfish. At the moment, he was enjoying linguine with red clam sauce. It was wonderful.
Around halfway through supper, the spirits and elements began to whisper softly around him. He paused and lifted his head, just as a small knock sounded from his door. The old Shaman tilted his head to the side and then set down his fork and stood. His old bones protested the motion, so he stretched a bit and then took up his staff and made his way to the door.
"Who calls?" he inquired as he approached.
There was no answer.
Curious, Nobundo reached out and opened the door slightly that he might peer out through the crack. At fist he saw no one, and wondered if his ears were playing tricks on him. Then he looked down and took in a sharp breath. Jaina's child- or what he presumed was Jaina's child- stood there, dressed in black cloth, and donning a protective cloak. She was holding his Earth Totem in her hands and seemed to be inspecting it.
After a moment, she looked up at him, and her face was concealed by the shadows of her hood. "How does it work?" she inquired curiously.
Nobundo blinked and then smiled and opened his door wider. "It is a tool, through which a shaman can conduct their energies," he answered.
"Can you show me?" she asked.
Nobundo nodded. "I would be honored to. Come in, come in, I have a feeling that you are not supposed to be wandering the halls on your own."
The little girl fidgeted uncertainly. "Mother says I shouldn't talk to strangers," she reflected. The shaman smiled gently in response.
"Ah, well then... Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Nobundo." He bowed as best he could.
"Oh. I'm Kallah! Um... Does this mean you aren't a stranger any more?"
Nobundo chuckled lightly. "I shall leave that up to your discretion."
Kallah hesitated a moment, and glanced down the hall behind her. She thought about the situation for a moment, and then looked back at up Nobundo. There was something about him, something she couldn't quite place. He was safe, the back of her mind told her, trustworthy, nice. And he knew something about shamanism, like old Drek'Thar. Drek'Thar! That's who Nobundo reminded her of.
At last, the little girl nodded, and stepped into the shaman's quarters. "Okay," she said. "But mother will be home in... in... two hours, so I gotta be gone before then."
"Never fear. I shall do my very best to see you home on time," he answered somewhat jovially.
The Undercity
Nathanos Blightcaller was not a very caring person- at least, he didn't like to think so. Most of his peers considered him cruel and manipulative, even sadistic. A rare few had seen his recent, more carefree side, and might label him as having a dark, vicious sort of whimsy. They certainly wouldn't have seen him as the type of being to show concern for whereabouts of two extremely insignificant and annoying humans. And yet, much to his surprise, that's exactly what he found himself doing. Around halfway into the Apothecarium he paused, mused for a moment, and realized that he was maybe… sort of… trying to find Flower.
The thought unsettled him in ways he could not even begin to describe.
After cannibalizing two individuals and kicking a puppy, the distraught Ranger Lord came to the realization that, as much as he hated it, he was going to have to find his missing companions. It wasn't that he missed them, or worried about them, he reasoned. It was just that he gained a much higher level of satisfaction from tormenting them than he gained from any other evil pastime.
He picked up the puppy and took it with him, bandaging up its leg as he went. He was a ranger, after all.
The Apothecarium was a dark place, dripping with sewage and smelling faintly of incense. While it served all the functions of a prison, it was primarily a hub of necromantic science. Abomination parts dangled from the ceiling on huge meat hooks, waiting to be assembled into grotesque monstrosities. Human prisoners huddled in their cages, weeping as their ends drew nearer. All of them would die horrible deaths, at the mercy of some poison or experiment.
The apothecaries themselves were a rather nasty class of people, and most of them were somewhat mad. They gave the Forsaken their bad name, and were currently responsible for coming up with a plague that would both free the Scourge from Arthas and simultaneously wipe the world clean of human life.
It was easy to see why Nathanos liked them
The puppy apparently didn't share his opinion on the Apothecarium, as it started to whine and squirm in his arms. Nathanos absently stroked over its back and scratched its ears, a reflexive gesture that seemed to sooth the small animal.
Flower was locked in one of the Apothecarium cells. He was curled in a corner, whimpering and sniffling, and getting boogers all over his sleeves. Several of the apothecaries were reaching in through the bars, poking and prodding him with contraptions, and causing him to wail and hiccup.
Nathanos covered his face with one of his hands and sighed. He had a good idea why Flower was receiving so much attention. The Undercity had a very small supply of Necromancers, all of which were valuable to the apothecaries. The original Plague of Undeath had been of necromantic origin, after all.
Several apothecaries were standing beside Flower's cage and arguing over a potion that would kill the unfortunate man and bring him back to life as an undead. Some feet away, Master Apothecary Faranell stood hunched and stroking his tongue thoughtfully. Even he seemed interested in Flower.
He's going to be disappointed, Nathanos decided with a touch of wry amusement. Then ranger sighed again, and walked slowly up to the prison cells. Flower remained totally oblivious to his presence, and began crying plaintively for something he referred to as "Piggie".
This isn't very fair, Nathanos noted with some annoyance. How am I supposed to be a manipulative sadist if I feel sorry for someone as pathetic as him? I'm no better than Ketala this way.
Nathanos grimaced, but immediately tried to look at it from some other angle, to stop his narrow-minded thought train from running its course. On the other hand, Flower is largely responsible for C'Thun's death. He could be a very valuable asset against Naxxramas. I know he's going to be useless to these apothecaries. They haven't the foggiest idea how to employ him, and his insanity really limits what can be done with him.
There! That was an easier way of handling the situation. True, he did feel sorry for the unfortunate necromancer, and he'd have to work on repressing that feeling, but there were also perfectly logical reasons for springing him from the prison.
The fact that Nathanos just happened to be holding a puppy seemed to conveniently escape his manipulative sadist assessment .
"Ranger Lord?" Faranell inquired slowly in Gutterspeak, his shifty eyes avoiding Nathanos's face. "What brings you to us this afternoon?"
Well, Faranell, he thought with sarcastic amusement, I just wanted to let you know that he requires a diaper change twice a day, and he still needs to be breastfed… Yes, the more Nathanos thought about it, the more he realized the absurdity of leaving Flower with the apothecaries. The necromancer would get bored, and would blow up half the Undercity while trying to conjure a cookie, or something equally ridiculous.
"The Necromancer's with me, Master Apothecary," he said aloud. "I brought him and one other, a mage, from Silithus to help with the attack on Naxxramas."
Faranell frowned. "He is a necromancer," the apothecary hissed. "He should be working with the Apothecarium."
The Ranger Lord gave a smirk. "He has the mental capacity of a small hamster, Faranell. He's completely and entirely insane- and not in a good way. At any one point in time, he has no idea who he is, where he is, what he's doing, how he got there, who the people around him are, or why he should listen to anything anyone else has to say to him. He's useless for any conventional purpose. I keep him around because he has a tendency to accidentally blow things up, and I've a feeling he could start a fire with cold cereal and milk. But to you, Faranell, he serves no purpose. He is a reasonably good necromancer, yes, but he won't be able to communicate a damn thing. And I've a sneaking suspicion that turning him into a Forsaken isn't going to help matters."
Faranell frowned further, and looked back to the Necromancer. "We had gathered he was unstable, yes, but we think we can address the problem. My fellow apothecaries and I believe we have located the problem site in his brain, and we plan to remove it."
"You plan to remove his entire brain?" Nathanos answered in amusement. "Nothing about that man is stable. He's so confused that even the laws of physics escape him. Watch."
He turned towards the cage and held out the dog he was holding. "Flower!" he called. "Look, I got you a puppy!"
Flower looked up immediately. His golden eyes went wide and he suddenly disappeared in a cloud of pink dust, much to the confusion of the surrounding apothecaries. A second later, he reappeared directly in front of the Ranger Lord, with another cloud of pink. "A goose!" he squealed in delight, throwing his arms not only around the puppy, but around Nathanos as well, and hugging both with a gigantic smile upon his face. The puppy yipped in confusion. "I can't believe you got me a goose! It's just what I've always wanted! Thank youso much, Mommy!"
Nathanos fidgeted, trying to get away from the affectionate necromancer for a moment, and then giving up when he found the man's grip was nigh unbreakable. He looked at Faranell and shrugged helplessly. "See?" he asked the apothecary.
"You're the best mommy in the whole world!" Flower wailed happily.
Faranell coughed and nodded. "I suppose you are right. It's a pity, though. And Nathanos, I must say, I didn't see you as the motherly type…" he added, unable to resist the witticism. Nathanos grinned at the comment- a horribly, horribly evil grin.
"Yes, well, you know, me and Varimathras, best buds," the ranger prattled conversationally, much to the horror of the Apothecarium. "I don't suppose you've seen a Kirin'Tor running around?"
Faranell pointed mutely to a cage hanging from the side of the prison, in which the unfortunate mage was suspended. He'd been gagged, and was glaring at Nathanos with something in between anger and bemusement. "Ah! Well, isn't this one happy family reunion? I swear, the two of you are like damsels in distress, I'm always having to rescue you. I suppose it's not so strange, what with the fact that you're always running around in that purple dress…"
Ras yelled, in an exceptionally muffled voice, "WOB!" which Nathanos assumed meant 'robe', but which he purposefully misinterpreted as 'dog'.
"What's that?" he asked the captive mage. "You want the puppy? Flower, bad news: The mage wants your goose."
Flower gave him a look of supreme and unadulterated horror. He then grabbed the puppy and turned around and ran screaming from the Apothecarium, shooting lightning bolts behind him as a distraction. The bolts of lightning missed his non-pursuing pursuers of course, but every single one managed to sever a chain that held an abomination part tethered to the ceiling. Several tons of dead flesh came crashing to the ground, squishing several apothecaries beneath their bulk. With a contented sigh, Nathanos turned back to Ras, and set to freeing him from the cage. "You know, I'd briefly considered leaving the both of you," he informed the gagged mage. "What was I thinking? Who would entertain me, then?"
Master Apothecary Faranell did not stop him, but inwardly he did worry about the safety of the Undercity.
Zangarmarsh
That night, Ember dreamt.
She dreamt of a burning world, limed in green hellfire, black and dead, and covered in bone. She dreamt of slaves, and murder- of hatred and pain- of demons. She dreamt of a great and fiery Eredar, a black and horrible temple, a broken gladiator, drifting through the shadows, eyes cyan, mouth filled with sharp fangs, the owl-eyes of an elf. She dreamt of a living, windswept landscape, with great hills and haunting mountains, of the place Shadowmoon had once been. Of fire. Of spirits. Of death.
She dreamt of Archimonde… and for the first time, saw him in all his living glory, eyes blazing green, so much like Illidan's.
Ember woke up with a start, and took in a deep breath, her golden eyes glittering in the still darkness of the Zangarmarsh. Above her, stars rolled haphazardly through the sky, and around her crickets chirped and swamp beasts rumbled. Uncle. She took in a deep breath. Spirits, I want to talk to my uncle.
They were quite for a moment, before the Draenei spirit at last spoke. "It's not safe, Ember. If you speak to Illidan, he'll be able to track you."
What's wrong with him finding me? she asked, frowning unhappily.
"You yourself said he was frightening as he is now."
What am I going to learn that will be able to help him? He could be getting worse and worse every day, and you're making me go farther and father from him! If anyone could help him, wouldn't it be me and Zul'vii?
" 'Zul'vii and I,'" he corrected her grammar. "And yes-"
Then let me talk to him! If it's so dangerous for me to go to him, let him come to me! Why do we have to go to Nagrand?
"To strengthen you, Ember. We know a way to help you fight against Archimonde- and against what Illidan is becoming. We know a way to help. Please, trust us, Ember."
Ember frowned blackly, and her eyes narrowed. Let me talk to my uncle. There must be a way, so that he can't track me. I want to talk to him. I can tell something's wrong. He needs me.
"He is more demon than elf, Ember. It's unsafe."
Ember sat upand clutched at her skull, anger building up within her gut. "Iam more demon than elf!" she snarled aloud, clambering to her feet and walking some ways from Zul'vii's sleeping form. "You said that you were going to help me. You said that you were on my side. Were you lying?"
The draenei seemed taken aback by her hostile tone, and was quiet a moment longer. The night elf spoke in his stead. "We only want to protect you, Ember-"
"I don't need your protection; I need your help!" she snapped.
"Of course you need protection! Especially here in Outland, surrounded by demons! You want to stay safe from Archimonde, don't you? To have your own life, free from him and his demands? If you go to Nagrand, we can strengthen you- build your defenses up against him! Illidan will only-"
Ember's golden eyes flamed, and a vicious grimace twisted her lips and bared her teeth. "SHUT UP!" she screamed.
Zul'vii jumped, snorted, sat up, and gave a bewildered "Wh-huh?"
"Shut up!" Ember shrieked again. "Shut up, shut up, you said you would help me! You said you would get me to Illidan, to my uncle! That is what I want! No one can help me! You can't help me! Furion couldn't help me! I want Illidan! I WANT ILLIDAN!"
"Ember, it's for your own good-"
"Ember, this is silly-"
"Illidan-"
"We want to help-"
"We don't-"
The little girl stumbled, clutching her head, digging slashes into her cheeks. "SHUT UP!"she roared, turning her eyes up to the sky. "I hate you! I hate all of you, I hate you, I hate you, you're just like them, just like all of them, stupid, blind, you don't know what you're talking about, I want my uncle, I WANT MY UNCLE-"
"Ember," murmured the tauren spirit, his voice rising above the voices of the others. "I shall send a written letter to Illidan for you, through magic. If it is your wish that he should know your location, you may inform him of it. It is, after all, your choice, your life. But we do want to help you, Ember. And we want to help him."
Ember had fast dissolved into anger. Her eyes flamed, and her breath came fast and heavy. The tauren's words soothed her, however, and she began to calm, her posture becoming less feral, less hostile.
"You will? You will send the letter? You won't just throw it out- you swear?"
"I swear this to you, Ember. I will send the letter- any letter you please- to Illidan Stormrage. He will not be able to track the spell. And then, he will be able to send a letter back to you."
Ember grunted and paced for a few moments, trying to work off excess energy. Zul'vii and Nana watched her curiously from nearby, but Ember ignored both of them.
"We did not lie to you Ember," the tauren said gently. "We fear for you, and sometimes it blurs our judgment. You see, Ember, Illidan may need your help more than you need his- and we can equip you to aid him if you go to Nagrand. As things are now, Illidan is unstable. He may even snap and unintentionally hurt you, like he did last time. We just want you to be safe."
"I want my uncle," Ember impressed upon him unyieldingly. "You will take me to Illidan by the end of the year, or I will stop listening to anything you have to say."
The spirits were quiet for the longest moment- even the tauren. When they spoke again, it was as one. "It is a promise," they assured her. "Within the year, we will lead you to Illidan."
"But," added the troll spirit, "If dat be da case, could you stop wandering off into da swamp with da mushroom people? Take longer ta get ta Nagrand dat way."
Ember nodded in agreement, and then lifted her head and looked at Zul'vii. The half-troll was watching her with an unprejudiced gaze- curious, but understanding. "Need some paper?" she offered with a smile. Ember swallowed and nodded, and gave a small smile back.
"Yes. Thank you, Zul'vii."
The Undercity
"What the nether was all that about?" Ras snarled as they departed from the Apothecarium. "First you betray me to the Undercity guards-"
"Oh come now, are you still upset about that? It was just a bit of fun."
"A bit of fun? Do you have any idea what they do to people in there?" he exclaimed.
"Of course. Hence, the fun! Come now, Ras, you were a lich once! Surely you must see the irony."
"Yes, well, we'll see if I feel like pulling a similar prank the next time we're in Stormwind!" the mage hissed back. "What is the matter with you? Are you insane?"
Nathanos looked at him, and gave a wry smile. "I thought we established that a long time ago…"
Ras stared at his normally stoic companion, and then shook his head. "Regardless, you nearly got us killed."
"Yes, and you should be flattered," the ranger insisted. "I actually do kill most people. Now, did you see where Flower got off to?"
"Pardon me, but I'm not the one who sent him off screaming into the Undercity."
Nathanos eyed him reproachfully, and then looked back out at the city. "Temper, temper… He can't be all that far. You know how easily he gets distracted. Oh, and by the way, your name is fairly well known in the Undercity. I suggest you take an alias, such as 'Sar Boilyeller'."
Ras arched a brow at the confusing ranger, and Nathanos smiled.
"What? Would you prefer I call you 'Fran'?"
"Sar will do just fine," the mage answered, tired of this confusing verbal debate. "And I think I see Flower."
Nathanos blinked. "Where?"
Ras lifted a hand, and pointed to where a laughing necromancer was playing piggyback on a very confused abomination.
"Oh, thank the gods," Nathanos murmured. "He hasn't gotten the puppy killed yet."
Ras blinked several times, and then looked in bewilderment at Nathanos. "How did you find a puppy in the Undercity?" he wondered aloud.
"Well, I used my eyes. And then, I followed the poo. And that's how I did it," Nathanos answered, and seemed unconcerned that this wasn't an answer at all.
Theramore
Kallah decided she liked Nobundo. He was friendly and old and strange, and he was defiantly very wise. She could spend hours asking him all kinds of questions, and he'd have an answer for almost all of them. Best of all, he never got annoyed!
He was also very peculiar to look at, and so Kallah couldn't help but stare at him. Daelin had only recently explained to her the difference between races. He'd told her about orcs, and he'd told her about humans, but he'd never told her about anything even vaguely resembling Nobundo. Needless to say, a large volume of Kallah's questions revolved around the Shaman's appearance.
"Why do you have only three fingers?" she asked. Nobundo blinked and his eyes dimmed slightly. He regarded one of his hands as if saddened by it, and then looked back at her.
"There are four kinds of Draenei," he said softly. "Most Draenei do not look like me. They are beautiful things, if I may so myself. Typically they have horns, broader faces than a human's. They are tall, and have legs much like mine. They have five fingers one each hand, and their feet end in hooves."
"Hooves?" she inquired. Nobundo paused and regarded the little child, surprised. She had apparently lived a very sheltered life.
"Do you know what horses are?" he asked "Cows, goats?"
"Oh! Yes. They have hooves for feet?"
"Yes..."
"Okay, I know what those are! But, why don't you look like that? You have claws, and only three fingers... And no horns. Oh! And no nose!"
Nobundo winced. "I am what is called a Broken Draenei," he answered. "We have been damaged by bad magic. It has made us into something different- changed us from what we once were into something ugly and sick."
Kallah blinked, regarding Nobundo curiously. Sick- yes, she could see that. The same instinct that told her Nobundo was safe, also told him that something within him was hurt. But... "But you aren't ugly," she told him
He smiled a little sadly. "You have never seen a normal Draenei."
"Why do I need to? You are pretty to a human," she answered.
His smile became a little more genuine. "Regardless, I believe you came to ask me about your new earth totem?"
"Oh! Yes, how do I use it?"
"To use it, you must understand the earth, on which the totem calls- must speak to the earth spirit itself," he answered, sitting down cross-legged on the rug before his fireplace. Kallah plopped down before him. She was used to vague answers in shamanism, and her immediate willingness to listen hinted to Nobundo that she might have another teacher. "The earth beneath your feet forms the foundation for all things," he began. "The sky, the waters, even great fire - all rest upon its shoulders. While those others often form chaotic tempests, the earth abides. It grants strength and fortitude to the core of your being. Granted, being this high in a tower is probably not the best place to talk to the earth spirit- but you can do that at another time. You would not need me to be there."
This was familiar to Kallah- not phrased the same way, but familiar. She listened curiously, and knew instinctively that the story was at least as important as the answers she wanted.
The Undercity
The Undercity was a bit too crowded for Nathanos's purposes. Ras and Flower were liable to be stabbed by a passing rogue at any moment, and then Nathanos would have to go through all the trouble of finding a healer for them. Personally, he didn't feel it was worth the time. In light of this, he dragged them up to the old ruins of Lordaeron, where undead were scarce.
Flower had adopted one of the Undercity's abominations and renamed it "Pudgy Lumpkins". The two were currently playing fetch with Flower's new puppy by throwing one of Pudgy Lumpkin's ribs.
Ras was nagging at Nathanos again- something about irresponsible and Ketala and undead armies and the nether only knew what else because the Ranger Lord wasn't paying attention. Rather, Nathanos was looking at a large, elfin teleportation device. It sat quite innocently in an alcove off of Lordaeron's front courtyard. "Well, that's new," he reflected.
"Are you even listening to me?" Ras exclaimed in irritation.
"Of course not," Nathanos answered, his eyes fixed on the device. As he watched, the orb in the center of the device flared up, and a male elf appeared. His clothing was a dark red and his eyes burned green with the taint of magic.
"Then what- oh." Ras paused, eyeing the device as well. "Do you think it leads to Silvermoon?"
"I should hope so," the ranger decided, heading in the direction of the device.
This made Rase curious. "Oh?" he wondered aloud. "Does the all-powerful undead Ranger Lord miss his home?"
Nathanos gave the mage an incredulous look. "You ask stupid questions," he reflected. "Silvermoon is closer to Naxxramas."
Ras sighed resignedly, but then perked up as a better jibe occurred to him. "So, you don't miss your home. You miss Ketala."
"Blah, blah, blah."
"Nathanos and Ketala, sitting in a tree!" cried Flower, with untamed delight. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
The ranger's eyes grew wide, and a look of horror crossed over his face.
Flower seemed oblivious. "First comes love-" Nathanos twitched. "Then comes marriage!" Twitch-twitch. "Then comes a baby in a baby carriage! Yaayy!"
As Nathanos looked on the verge of breaking into an epileptic seizure, Ras gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Erm… Please don't kill Flower. I live for the moments he embarrasses you like this."
Flower continued to dance around, singing. "On top of spaghetti… all covered with cheese, I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed! It rolled off of the table, and onto the floor-"
Pudgy Lumpkins began to dance as well, clapping his meaty hands and laughing stupidly. The puppy barked excitedly at their antics. "There was a man lived in the moon, in the moon, in the moon, there was a man lived in the moon and his name was Aikendrum! And he played upon a ladle, a ladle, a ladle! And he played upon a ladle, and his name was Aikendrum!"
Nathanos took in a deep breath, trying to repress the urge to kill the necromancer. "I suggest you keep Flower from annoying any elves too badly," he said quietly "They have a tendency to shoot fireballs at things they dislike, and I want to investigate Silvermoon."
Ras nodded. "A silence spell should hush him up. I just hope the abomination doesn't follow us."
"If it did, I might forgive him for his horrible singing voice."
Flower danced past them. "Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full! Two for the master and one for the dame, but none for Ranger Lord who cries in the lane!"
Nathanos eyed Flower a moment. "Let's just get this over with."
Naxxramas
Thaddius rammed his shoulder into the massive dragon, holding its jaws tightly closed in the crook of his other arm. The beast roared and bucked against him, trying to get into a position to do him damage. Its left wing battered vainly against his head, but failed to inflict any serious damage on his tough hide. His arms seized tightly around the dragon's head, wrestling with it, trying to tear it off.
Sapphiron roared and backhanded the giant abomination with one of its massive forearms, sending him backwards a dozen feet or so. To his credit, Thaddius did not release the Frostwyrm's head, and instead pulled the dragon along with him. His hands were slowly crushing the dragon's vertebrae. Frustrated and enraged, Sapphiron leapt at him, claws bared and grasping. Thaddius's green eyes widened. He put his shoulder into the dragon's eye socket, and threw its skull violently into its left arm, using its domed forehead like a shield. Its right claws slashed at him, but he freed a hand and grappled with them, holding the massive talons away from his face and abdomen.
Scythe-like nails closed around his wrist, digging into his plated gauntlets. Sapphiron growled and tried to wrench its head free of the titan's grip, with very limited success. Its claws found their way through past his metal plates and scratched at his tough yellow hide, but Thaddius grit his teeth and held on tightly to the giant wyrm. A few scratches on his wrist were nothing in comparison to what the dragon could do to him.
Thaddius's advantage was in his weight, which was considerably greater than the skeletal dragon's. He was difficult to budge, impossible to lift, and could hold a defensive position almost indefinitely.
In an attempt to sway the battle to its own advantage, Sapphiron brought to bear its great tail, and swung it at the titan's broad shoulders. Thaddius noticed, and with a mighty heave he grabbed the dragon's head and rammed it onto the oncoming tail.
Sapphiron roared thunderously, flailing madly with its claws. Talons ripped into abomination flesh, tearing open stripes in Thaddius's broad back. The abomination cried out and stumbled away from the dragon, twisting around and trying to get away from the frenzied beast.
Sapphiron was content not to follow, as the creature was having difficulties dislodging its tail from its own forehead. It tugged and yanked, roared and struggled, but the tail blade would not come free.
Thaddius quivered and clutched at his aching back, feeling the gouges. He cried out at the touch and jerked his hand back in front of him. His fingers were stained with dark, mahogany-colored blood. His legs shook, and he looked around desperately for a moment. "Ketala!" he wailed, confused by the red coloring on his fingers and the pain in his back.
Ketala had been running towards Sapphiron, hoping that with her abilities she might be able to dispose of the creature. Upon hearing Thaddius's pained cry, however, she turned back to him and quickly darted to his side. "I'm here!" he told him. "I'm here, what is it?"
"H-hurts!" he cried, slipping to his knees with an earth-quaking rumble. Ketala fell to her rear in the aftershocks; she didn't quite have Nathanos's grace. The titan abomination reached forward swiftly, cupping his hands around her. Ketala blinked and quickly scrambled up into his palms, and he lifted her up and held her beside his shoulder, so she could view the wounds in his back. "Hurts!" he cried again, tears forming in his green eyes.
Ketala blinked and quickly scrambled onto his shoulder and placed her hands upon his flesh.
Again, the Holy Light heeded her call. It rushed around her like cascading waterfalls and spilled gracefully into the titan abomination, sealing his wounds and leaving him whole once more. Thaddius gave a started exclamation and then sighed in relief. He scooped Ketala off of his shoulder, and held her tight against his chest. "Thank you," he mumbled. He held her out and smiled at her, and then set her carefully back on the ground.
Sapphiron gave a mighty shriek, and then brutally tore its tail from its forehead, sending shard of bone flying in all directions. Half of its face had been destroyed in the struggle, but it had never looked so menacing. Its skeletal jaws opened wide, blue frost gathering in the back of its throat.
Thaddius gasped, charging to his feet and leaping at the dragon. Cunning even in death, Sapphiron chose not to truly utilize its breath weapon. Instead, it snapped its jaws closed around the abomination's arm. Teeth sank into Thaddius's yellow flesh and a small gout of frost snuck out between the monsters jaws, sending a numbing chill across his broad chest. The titan cried out in shock, balled his free hand into a fist, and slammed it into the side of the dragon's head with all his might. Bone fractured, and tortured vertebrae groaned. Sapphiron shrieked between its teeth, letting out another gout of frost and rearing up, bringing its claws to bear. Thaddius jerked backwards and at the same time delivered another crushing punch to the side of the Frostwyrm's head.
There was a startling crack. Claws sunk into yellow flesh; Thaddius screamed and stumbled backwards, holding lacerations in his chest, throat and face. In front of him, Sapphiron's headless body floundered around in confusion, unable to see, smell, or hear. Thaddius shuddered and looked down at his arm, where Sapphiron's mighty jaws were still clenched around his flesh. The dragon's eyes were empty sockets now, and no blue aura lingered in their depths.
Thaddius winced and ripped the head from his arm and dropped it with a clatter on the ground. His arm burned in pain, as did his face where the dragon had struck him. Warm blood trickled down his throat and chest, and he touched it with a worried expression on his face.
Ketala was charging towards Sapphiron, her swords flaming. This time, he did not call her back.
Silvermoon
Silvermoon was not as he remembered it.
Which was fine with Nathanos. The stench of demonic magic filled the air like a drug, and an aura of megalomania accompanied it. Green fires ranged from the lowest alleyways to the highest towers, a testimony to the race's dark present. On the streets, bits of magic were more valuable than gold. The city was sick, and so Nathanos had come to like it.
Just like him, it had fallen, had become corrupt. It was not the pure and shining Silvermoon of the past, but a red blemish on the landscape, hidden beneath a facade of pretty elfin faces. So, he reflected, this was home. He could get used to it.
While Nathanos was attracted to the place, Ras Frostwhisper was obviously repulsed. It was the elves who had first taught the Kiren'Tor magic, and who had warned the humans about its dangerous and corrupting nature. Now it seemed those elves had forgotten all their culture and discipline, and had dissolved into power-hungry slobs. It sent a shiver down the mage's spine, but he tried not to judge them. After all, Ras had gone mad and turned to necromancy upon the death of his wife. He wasn't much better than them.
"So," the mage asked slowly. "Where are we going?"
"Looking around," Nathanos answered innocently, looking up at the city's golden trees, and reflecting on how they both complimented and contrasted the elfish buildings.
"You said this would be a good place to stage an attack on Naxxramas. So, isn't that what we're here for?"
"Yup."
"And how does looking around help with this?"
"I decide whether I'm going to stage the attack from here, or commit arson. How flammable do you think that mage tower is?"
"Considering its a mage tower, it's probably warded."
"On the outside, perhaps, but wizards are notorious for bad planning..."
"Bad planning! We must study all our lives to acquire the knowledge to cast our spells!"
"Exactly. Too much studying, and not enough doing, makes a person intelligent but unwise. You wouldn't believe how many wizard libraries have no wards against fire. And the spellbook you carry: Is it warded?"
"Well, no, but-"
"Then stay up late tonight, or I'll toss it into a fireplace for you."
"Your ability to avoid subjects is practically an art form."
"Yes, well, I'm very careful to actually practice it, rather than just studying. "
"We practice constantly-!"
"Oh look, something shiny," Nathanos pointed out in loud monotone. He gravitated towards the blacksmith shop he'd discovered, completely ignoring the mage and silently delivering the message to 'shut up'. Ras sighed but gave in and trudged after the bizarre Ranger Lord.
Flower bounced happily after them, with Pudgy Lumpkins following in the rear. The Abomination's rotting flesh was blistering hideously in the warm Silvermoon sunlight. Those unfortunate elves who stood downwind of him quickly fled the scene, all the while gagging and pinching their noses.
Nathanos smiled happily at the spectacle that Pudgy was causing, and then sighed whimsically. "I think I could stay here for awhile," he noted.
Ras could only grimace in disapproval.
Naxxramas
Ketala's eyes whirled red as she urged her stronger, elemental heritage to take over. Power surged through, giving her unnatural speed and strength. She bolted up to the side of the dragon, and with a whirl of her blades and an utterance of "Aero," she ran straight up the skeletal length of its arm. The dragon didn't notice her, still shaking its neck in frustration.
She slapped her blades together. "Pyro," coated her blades in flame, and "Lux," brought a brilliant white light. Scimitars bit into bone, hacking at the undead creature's life-force. Thaddius's face brightened and he stepped towards Sapphiron again, eager to help his little sister. Over the sounds of battle, he heard a thick, ominous clicking noise. It was followed quickly by a clank, and a whoosh of air. The titan paused. These noises were familiar. He turned around, looking for the source, just as a tree-sized harpoon reached him.
There was no time to react. The barbed tip sank into his waist, pushed through him, shoved lung, liver, spleen all aside, cracked his steel ribs, glanced off of his metal spine. Thaddius tried to scream, but the sound came out as a tortured choke. Blood and bile rose in his mouth and he stumbled backwards, clutching the massive projectile.
Ketala's eyes flashed from red to yellow, and she jerked her head in Thaddius's direction. Her lips parted in horror. The titanic abomination stood there, weaving unsteadily on his feet, completely impaled by a ten foot harpoon. "THADDIUS!"
Green eyes looked at her in surprise, and then the abomination lost his footing and slipped to his knees. Ketala dropped from Sapphiron's back and bolted quickly in the titan's direction. "Thaddius!" she screamed. "Thaddius!"
In the distance, she could hear a ballista reloading. She could hear a clank, a woosh of air. Thaddius looked weakly in the sound's direction, just in time to see another harpoon sailing his way. He lifted a hand, trying to catch it, but missed. This one went through his stomach, bypassed his ribs entirely, passed straight through him, and exited on the other side.
He gave a tortured, strangled cry.
"THADDIUS!"
The Scourge seemed to have been waiting for Thaddius to fall. They swarmed him, throwing chains over his bulk and quickly binding him down, driving the harpoon further through him. He struggled vainly, weakly, and then just collapsed. A pool of his own blood slowly spread out beneath him.
"Thaddius!" Ketala screamed, rushing towards the scene. She was a fool for leaving his side- a fool for abandoning him, even for a moment. A fool for falling into her elemental heritage.
Mograine- Mograine!- met her charge. His horse leapt out from the confusion and started straight for her. He twirled his blade eagerly, a feral grin on his face. She remembered his words, his advice, his promise to aid her.
Ketala screamed in failure and pain, scraping her blades together and rushing to meet the deceptive highlord
In her emotional state, she did not feel the gargoyles coming up fast behind her her. Seven had darted into the hallway, clutching great nets in their gnarled talons, positioning them oh so carefully. When Mograin and Ketala were no less than ten yards from each other, the nets fell, one by one.
The first only entangled her feet, but served to knock her off balance. The second fell over her like a glass cup over an insect, trapping her entirely. The net's ropes were made of iron chains, and thick barbs pierce her skin. The weight was enormous. She screamed in pain, trying to slash the links apart and crying aloud to the Light.
Her pleas for divine aid were cut short by the weight of another net, and another after that. They bore her to the ground with their weight, pinning her helplessly against the ground. She strained against them, ripping up her arms and carving a hole out of her cheek, before starting to lift them off of her.
Mograine trotted up beside her, and gave a broad, insane smile. "Just a diamond in the rough," he murmured. "Strip away the rough, and all is cold and crystal beneath."
Ketala shrieked, trying to get to her feet.
Something heavy collided with her back, knocking the wind out of her. It smashed her to the ground and pinned her there, and when her sight came back into focus, she saw Sapphiron's claws wrapped tightly around her.
Ketala couldn't fail. Not then, not like that, not after she'd finally broken free of apathy. She screamed, fighting against her captor, peeling the nets from her damaged flesh, fighting, and yet unable to break free.
Only a hundred yards away, she could hear Thaddius whimpering in pain. "THADDIUS!" she wailed, just as defeated, just as helpless, just as hurt as he.
"Good work, Mograine," came a soft, frosty voice, and the form of a very familiar Litch hovered into view.
Ketala shivered and looked upward, into the eyes of her adoptive father, to Kel'Thuzad, the lich she had forsaken everything to save. Cold blue eyes looked back at her, and then turned away without evidencing the slightest sign of emotional discomfort. She stared at him, watching as he surveyed the damage to Sapphiron, and then as he turned to look at Thaddius.
"Everything is in order, I see. Very well then, kill the Abomination."
"Daddy!" Ketala cried in protest, tears slipping down her face. Kel'Thuzad glanced at her, and she lifted an arm as best she could, stretching it out imploringly to the lich. "Please! Please, don't hurt him!"
He regarded her a moment, and then looked away.
"Daddy! Daddy, please!"
For a long time all was the chatters of ghouls and the meaty steps of abominations. Then there was a great, organic thud, a piercing noise, and the sound of spurting blood.
Ketala could do nothing but scream.
Far away in Silvermoon, Nathanos experienced a cold shudder. He frowned at the sensation and then shrugged it off without a second though. A more dramatically inclined individual might have taken it as a bad omen.
Nathanos roles for Sense-Drama and gets a 1. Epic Fail.