Hello everyone, and welcome back to the next chapter of Shadow of The Harvest. Firstly, a special thank you to 'OutlastTheDark' who gave me permission to use his OC in this chapter, go check out his work. Usually I would do review responses but there isn't much to say really. Now, on with the show!
"I think people feel starved of nice, glamorous entertainment. They want to see costumes and gaiety and a singer; old-fashioned entertainment-it won't die easily." Ronnie Corbett, 1930-2016. You shall be missed.
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Chapter 5- Long Time, No See
One Week later…
Malic hastened the speed of his Warhorse, Boneshadow, as he galloped quickly through the remnants of Lordaeron now known as the Western Plaguelands. Malic grumbled quietly in disgust as he observed the now fresh foliage growing in the area. He liked the Plaguelands just the way they were, at least the Scourge had the decency to place some Plague Cauldron's in the fields rather then actually growing things.
"This place...it's so bright and full of life..." Khamû muttered as he swiftly followed his Master down the road, gazing around at the land around him in disgust. "It sickens me to my very core!"
"Agreed, but my informant wanted to meet here." Malic responded, his eyes never leaving the road. "Why though I cannot understand..."
"I mean not to question your decisions Master," Khamû stated, causing the Warlock to slow the pace of his steed as he turned to face the Demon. "And I know you consider this one a friend-"
"'Friend' is a strong word Khamû," Malic interrupted, turning to face the road again as he slowly brought Boneshadow into a canter. "I would use the term 'acquaintance'."
"Which brings me to my question," Khamû continued, speaking as if nothing had happened. "Why are we going to meet him?"
"Because he may be insufferable but he knows certain things, and I'll bet he knows something about this..." Malic replied, quickly bringing out the broach Malic had procured from one of the Assassin's sent to kill him. "Besides, he owes me one..."
"If you insist." Khamû sighed, catching up to the Warlock as the Warhorse began to increase in speed. "But don't say I didn't warn you..."
"You're only saying that because you don't like him." Malic chuckled, Boneshadow once again galloping down the road.
"Correction, I despise him." Khamû corrected, earning yet another chuckle from the Warlock.
The journey proved to be less then eventful, which Malic was glad for. The last week had been a busy one to say the least. He had been assaulted by numerous other Assassin's, all of them dressed in the same armour and carrying the same broaches as the ones from Booty Bay. He had even been attacked in Tirisfal only moments ago, the only place he hadn't been in harms way was the Undercity. But he knew it would only be a matter of time before the Assassin's found a way to reach him, which was why he was going to find them first and make them pay in blood.
He soon found himself outside the gates of Hearthglen, once a bastion of the Scarlet Crusade and now main Headquarters of the Argent Crusade in the Western Plaguelands. He brought Boneshadow to a halt as the gargantuan wooden gates slowly opened, where a number of Argent Crusaders stood guard. Malic slowly guided Boneshadow through the silver armoured Paladins, who all watched the Demon besides him warily.
Malic observed the area around him, taking note of the large number of Soldiers training nearby. Why they were training, he did not know. The Scourge presence in Lordaeron was nearly gone, though it never hurt to be prepared, especially considering the recent actions of a certain Orc Warchief. Malic quickly approached the Stables stationed in the centre of the residence, taking note of the large number of Argent Chargers already inside. However, the one that caught his attention the most was a Crimson Armoured Deathcharger that had been stationed near the entrance of the Stable.
"Here already..." Malic murmured, dismounting Boneshadow as he led the Warhorse next to the Deathcharger, who didn't so much as flinch at the sudden appearance of the Forsaken. "That's surprisingly punctual of him..."
"Perhaps he has grown more 'mature' since our last meeting..." Khamû suggested, though as soon as the Demon uttered those words he knew it was foolish to think such a thing was possible.
"I doubt it..." Malic muttered, confirming the Demons fears. "Let's get this over with shall we?"
Malic and Khamû quickly strode from the Stables to the nearby Inn stationed on the opposite side of the courtyard. They quickly entered the structure, Malic reeling slightly at the sudden change of lighting. Inside the Inn were a large number of Adventurers of all races revelling at the festivities the Inn had to offer. A number of the more shady patrons subtly turned their gaze towards the Warlock, narrowing their eyes as he slowly moved forward. Malic chose to ignore the stares he was receiving, looking in all directions for any sign of his informant.
"Malic, you old bone bag!" an echoing voice suddenly shouted behind him, causing Malic to freeze in place as he slowly turned around. "I've been waiting for you!"
Sat at a table near the back door of the Inn was a Blood Elf, his features hidden by a hood that hid all except his cold blue eyes. Matte Black Armour covered the rest of his body, save for the Ebon Blade Tabard covering his chest, whilst a long black cloak hung loosely from his back. The Blood Elf leaned back in his chair slightly as he used his foot to push the chair opposite him away, a sly smirk now visible on his face due to the candle light.
"It's good to see you again Wrath..." Malic murmured, using the Blood Elf's self proclaimed name. What his real name was he didn't know as it was a closely guarded secret, not that he cared anyhow.
"Long time no see, 'ey Malic?" the Blood Elf, now identified as Wrath, replied, gesturing to the chair opposite him which Malic sat down on seconds later. "So, how have you been?"
"Do not waste time Elf!" Khamû spat, his eyes narrowed into slits as he continued to glare at the Blood Elf. "You know full well why we are here!"
"Khamû..." Wrath sighed, turning to face the Void Lord as he shook his head. "I see you're still a walking angst-fest as per usual."
Khamû blinked in response, clearly taken aback by the remark before quickly resuming his glare at the Blood Elf. "Why you insufferable-"
"Khamû..." Malic hissed, his voice dangerously. "Do I have to dismiss you or will you be quiet?"
"I am sorry if I have offended you Master," Khamû responded, bowing his head low for a second before glaring at Wrath yet again. "But we are wasting our time here! I say we should leave and find someone else!"
"Come on Khamû," Wrath chuckled, pretending to sound hurt at the statement, though his grin stated otherwise. "We were just starting to get along!"
"Were it up to me, I would have crushed your pathetic little skull in my hands!" Khamû growled, his fist clenching and unclenching repeatedly. "And not to kill you, but so your skull was the size of your brain!"
"Khamû!" Malic shouted, pointing to the door with one of his bony fingers. "Stay outside with Boneshadow, now!"
Khamû blinked again, clearly taken aback once more. "Very well, as you wish..." Khamû finally murmured, bowing lowly at Malic whilst he sent a glare directed at Wrath once again.
Malic took note that as soon as the Void Lord had left the Inn, a large number of the patrons that had been watching them had now stopped. He even caught sight of one or two of them slowly moving their hands away from heir weapons, no doubt ready to draw them should the Void Lord follow through with any of his threats.
"Well...that was fun!" Wrath chuckled, turning around to face Malic, only to frown when he saw the Warlock staring intently at him. "What? Something on my face?"
"You're just as much to blame for his outburst as he is..." Malic explained, his already foul mood increasing when Wrath rolled his eyes in response. "You know he doesn't like it when you do things like that."
"Meh, he'll get over it." Wrath mumbled, waving his hand dismissively.
"No, he won't." Malic replied, shaking his head as he spoke.
"Good point..." Wrath then muttered as he scratched his chin thoughtfully, before shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "So, why'd you call for me? It certainly wasn't so you could grumble about your little man servant."
Malic quickly looked around, making sure there were no unfriendly eyes or ears paying attention to the two. Once he was convinced none were watching them, he leaned closer to Wrath, his voice but a whisper. "I appear to have some form of price on my head..."
"Come again?" Wrath asked, his head tilted questioningly to the side as his eyes were narrowed in confusion.
"I don't know who, but someone is after me. I've already had a number of attempts on my life already and it's only a matter of time until one of them succeeds!" Malic quietly hissed, his eyes watching the Blood Elf for any visible reaction. It was a full minute before Wrath spoke again.
"So let me get this straight...you're being hunted down by a group of Assassin's that want to see you dead and you thought it would be a good idea to meet up in a crowded Inn?" Wrath asked, Malic choosing to remain silent as the Blood Elf continued to stare at him. "It's official, I think that rot has finally hit your brain."
"If I recall, it was you who wanted to meet here!" Malic hissed, his voice showing clear signs of annoyance.
"Yeah well..." Wrath went silent as he attempted to complete his verbal jab, only to sigh as he gave up on the task. Damn this Warlock! "So what do I have to do with this?"
"As much as I hate to admit it, you are useful when it comes to identifying certain groups of people." Malic answered, sighing internally when he saw Wrath grin comically in response.
"Question, what makes you think a certain group is targeting you?" Wrath asked, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.
"Because they've all dressed the same and each one has carried this." Malic replied, quickly placing the broach on the table, Wrath quickly scooping the broach up in his hands and observing it. "Do you recognise it?"
"Hmm..." Wrath mumbled as he toyed with the broach in his hands, holding it to the nearby candle in order to make out any small symbols. "Sorry, can't say I have...but I can tell it's coated in Arcane Magic."
"Arcane Magic?" Malic asked, tilting his head slightly as Wrath handed the broach back to him. "What does it do?"
"Nothing special, it just acts as a telepathic link for whoever holds it, no doubt to connect to a higher directive." Wrath replied, running his finger idly on the table. "From what I can tell, it only allows a connection if the one wielding it allows their thoughts to be heard."
"Interesting..." Malic whispered, holding the broach close to his face before placing it back into a poach on his belt. "But you cannot tell me what group the broach belonged too?"
"Sorry, no." Wrath replied, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "I don't do all this Warlock crap."
"I see..." Malic sighed. He knew Wrath would not lie to him, he knew better then to do that. "Regardless, thank you."
"Hey, no problem." Wrath chuckled, waving his hand dismissively again. "I owed you after you helped my friend with his Demonic Book dilemma."
"I don't need reminding of that event..." Malic shuddered, shivering as he recalled said event. Those damn books seemed to have it in for him. "Well, I should get going before Khamû decides to vent his anger on one of the poor horses outside."
"Wait, I think I might have something." Wrath quickly stated, causing Malic to suddenly stop in his tracks as he turned his attention to Wrath again. "But it'll cost you..."
"Don't test my patience!" Malic seethed, his hands clenching his knees tightly.
"Relax, I'm not asking for money!" Wrath laughed, causing the Warlock to tilt his head questioningly. "I'll trade you for...a favour. I help you out now, you help me out in the future."
"That's it? No strings attached?" Malic asked, his eyes narrowed in judgement. He didn't know what sort of favour Wrath would want, but it certainly wouldn't be good.
"No strings whatsoever!" Wrath confirmed, the sly grin still present on his face.
"Very well then, you have a deal..." Malic finally mumbled, part of him dreading what sort of favour the Elf would ask for in the future. "What do you have for me?"
Instantaneously, Wrath quickly pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment, a wax seal hiding the contents of the scroll. Malic quickly observed the scroll, looking for any distinguishable marks, yet the only thing of interest was the seal, which was imprinted with a symbol clearly Blood Elven in nature.
"My friend got invited to a party exclusive to Warlocks, he declined and I was going to sell it on the Auction House for him but seeing as you need information..."
"You think I'll find some here?" Malic asked, looking up from the seal to stare at the Blood Elf who nodded in return. "What makes you so sure?"
"Look, all I know is that the person hosting the event knows a lot more then I do." Wrath responded, gazing silently at the table before him. "Maybe she'll know something about these guys..."
"Wait...'she'?" Malic asked, going silent as he racked his mind for who Wrath might be referring to. Then it hit him. "Please don't tell me it's who I think it is..."
"I'm afraid so..." Wrath muttered, a small frown present on his face. "Sorry..."
Malic growled as he banged his head on the table, Wrath wincing slightly at the sound of a large crack following after wards. It was silent for a while until Malic finally sighed and lifted his head from the table.
"Well then, I guess I should prepare to travel to the Elven Kingdom..."
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And done! Hope you enjoyed, and once again thank you to OutlastTheDark for giving me permission to use Wrath in my fic! If you liked it, feel free to leave a review and constructive criticism is welcomed. Any questions? Either leave in your review or PM me and I'll answer them for you.
Raging Archon out.