Chapter 18: Down Among The Dead Men
"You ever done something really stupid Rielle?"
"I don't work in the business of doing stupid things. I know that must seem astonishing to a mage, but believe me when I say it works."
"Well, perhaps I shall be more specific. You ever done something really stupid because you wanted to prove someone wrong?"
"…maybe. But this isn't about me, Zack. What stupid thing did YOU do?"
Zackel sighed deeply. He'd done a very good job burying the events that had occurred immediately before entering the Alterac Mountains, even mentally excising them from how his 'good idea' had gone wrong because those events had not been his responsibility. Dredging them back up only made him realize how lucky and how stupid he had been to act how he did. And what role it played in his current situation.
"I came up here to look for possible cast-off magical artifacts. Like all the other Alliance people who come here now, I set off from doing this from Southshore. But I didn't do that immediately upon landing. I waited around the town a few days, to get an idea of the lay of the land. Considering how contested Hillsbrad has become the past several years, I wasn't the only adventurer around. I spent some time in Southshore's inn and tavern, and shortly before I left I told my 'peers' what I was doing."
"And what, they wanted to horn in? And you didn't want to share?"
"Hardly." Zackel said. "My idea made me a laughingstock. I really don't know WHY…my only idea was that I was the only mage-type around at the time and the brawn-before-brains type didn't like me because of it. Maybe, like you, they had bad experiences in the past, though I didn't do anything to flaunt my so-called greater intelligence. Whatever their reasons, they thought my idea was stupid, and mocked me for even coming up with it. When I didn't back down, they mocked me even more. You might not see much of it Rielle, but I have my pride. After all the verbal abuse I got over my plan, well, I didn't just set out to find magical artifacts. I set out to prove all of my detractors wrong."
"And you were in such a hurry you forget your Runes?"
"No. I didn't. I wasn't that mad." Zackel said. "Mages are always supposed to carry at least two Runes, and preferably more. But Runes don't grow on trees, and my monetary pockets were rather light at the time. It's why I was hunting for magical artifacts to begin with. So all I had was two."
Zackel paused, looking at the canteen filled with PT, and then put it down. He didn't need to get any drunker.
"I had been warned about Tarren Mills, the Forsaken outpost on the northern side of the Hills. I had not dismissed those warnings…but my irritation affected me otherwise. Had I just gone out, I would have given the town as wide a berth as possible, even if it doubled my travel time. Instead, I only went slightly off the beaten path…"
"I started on a journey about a year ago, to a little town called Morrow in the land of Dun Morogh…" Zackel sang quietly to himself as he picked his way through the Hillsbrad forest encroaching up against the mountain. He paused to check his compass, and after assessing he hadn't veered off too far off course, looked up at the sun. Still a fair bit of daylight left.
"I've never been much of a traveler, and I really didn't know, that Morrow was the hardest place I'd ever try to go…" Zackel said, peering off into the forest to his left. He wasn't sure exactly where he was: he wouldn't know he was hitting the Alterac Mountains until the forest completely thinned out and he started finding snow on the ground. Still, so far so good.
"So I went down to the flight mounts for my flier and applied, for tips regarding Morrow not expecting to be guyed. Said I, 'My friend, I'd like to go to Morrow and return, no later than tomorrow for I haven't time to burn.'…" Zackel hummed in the same low tone, continuing his walk.
His step was very quiet. The twig snap that sounded was also about one and a half seconds off for his foot to have made it. Zackel stopped, his eyes narrowing.
Scanning around detected no movement, but Zackel knew he wasn't a hunter.
His ears, however, were good enough to catch the follow up twig snaps. They were even good enough to pinpoint their direction. Zackel turned towards the noise, chill energies beginning to gather around his staff.
The mountain lion looked like it hadn't had a good meal in some time. It might have explained why it was slowly stalking towards Zackel instead of something more inconvenient to him, like dropping down from a tree, or even approaching him at a full sprint. Still, the fact that Zackel had seen it didn't stop it, as it bared its teeth and hissed, slight ropes of saliva dripping from its jaws.
"…not a meal." Zackel said, thrusting his staff at the mountain lion. It did not back down. "No! Back! BACK!"
The mountain lion roared and charged instead.
Zackel was impressed by his own aim: the hurled blade of ice managed to slice the mountain lion down the side as he'd wanted. The big cat recoiled from the wound, snarling in rage at Zackel. A few more hurled ice blasts, deliberately aimed to miss, was enough to convince it that Zackel was not going to be any prey it could handle. Looping around, it bounded off into the forest.
"Don't blame you boy. I'd wager the meals around here have begun to taste rotten. Literally." Zackel said, raising his staff. He pulled out his compass again to re-gain his bearings before starting back off.
"Said he to me, 'Now let me see if I have heard you right. You'd like to go to Morrow and return tomorrow night. You should have gone to Morrow yesterday and back today, for the flight that goes to Morrow is a mile upon its way…"
Unlike the last time, Zackel had no audio cue for what happened next. Instead, the projectile just slammed into his upper back, sending him pitching forward onto his face with a startled yell.
The immense sluggishness sank into his muscles almost immediately; Zackel didn't have to be an alchemist to know he had been shot with a potent tranquilizer. Fear erupted through his body, but on its heels came knowledge of what he had to try and do. Steeling himself, Zackel began to gather his power to encase himself in a block of protective ice. Hopefully by the time he came out of it (and assuming whatever had shot him couldn't get into it themselves), the poison would have run its course. Such strong chemicals tended to have very short potency times, lest they kill the victim. And if whoever had shot Zackel had wanted him dead, they would have just used a fatal toxin…
As it turned out, they was literal, as Zackel suddenly felt bony fingers pulling him from the ground. And he still needed at least four seconds before he could complete his spell…
He didn't get it.
"Heh. Stupid meat." The Forsaken said, before he rammed his sword-hilt into Zackel's head. The undead's nasty laughter followed Zackel all the way down into the darkness.
And the undead's nasty stagnant water was what drew Zackel back from it, the mage surging back to consciousness with a disgusted gasp. Shaking his head nearly caused Zackel to smash the back of it into the stone wall behind him, and as he twisted and spat, he quickly realized that he was semi-lying down with his arms chained above him.
"Meat's awake, ma'am." The same male voice said. Zackel tried to blink sight back into his eyes, even as said eyes tried to adjust to the dim light. He wasn't quick enough, as bone fingers nearly as sharp as knives reached out and seized him by the chin.
"Hello." The Forsaken female said, before she shoved Zackel's head backwards into the wall. Strange colors exploded across Zackel's eyes, even as the strength went out of his legs again. Zackel was vaguely aware of laughter behind him, two different male voices. He recognized one of the laughs; it was the same one that had chased him when he'd been knocked out.
"Ah good, you're STILL awake. Maybe you'll be worth some effort after all." The Forsaken female said, pulling Zackel up by his hair; this time, she actually let Zackel's vision fully solidify (her rancid breath helped). Zackel tried not to let the sick fear that was running through him show up on his face as he took in what he could see of hers: the Forsaken was wearing a purple hood over her head, just revealing her sickly green face and yellow-tinted eyes. "Oh, and just so you know…"
The Forsaken held up a small hand-sized white stone. Zackel's eyes fixated on it a second before the Forsaken crushed it between her bone fingers, the remaining muscle tissue showing surprising strength in reducing the Heathstone to pebbles.
"Gone. Like all your hope. You shouldn't have come here human." The Forsaken female said. "These Hills belong to us."
"…I…did not come here…to dispute who or who does not own this land." Zackel said. "I meant none of you any harm, nor was I aiding the efforts of anyone who was."
"A likely story." The Forsaken female said, stepping back, allowing Zackel to see her two companions. Well, technically there were three: the third one, another female, had not spoken, though she favored Zackel with a nasty grin. The two males wore the same purple headpieces the interrogating female did, as well as the same purple-themed outfits she herself wore, though hers was slightly fancier. The other female did not wear the same style outfit, though her decayed shirt and pants were purple too, and her hair, a shocking upright mass of green, was exposed (and she could have benefited with a mask, as the flesh had rotten away around her mouth revealing exposed teeth and festering gums, hence making her nasty grin even more unpleasant).
"I wasn't anywhere NEAR your town! I was going out of my way…"
The backhand caused Zackel to see more interesting colors. He groaned inwardly, trying to focus his magic. Without his staff, and with his arms restrained the way they were, it wasn't going to be easy. It was far more likely they'd see his efforts and run over and attack him before he could even get a simple spell off. Which left the only proper spell he had was the language translation glyph he'd cast on himself before he'd set off (if you met the enemy, it didn't do you well if you couldn't understand what they were saying), but that couldn't help him, and it was clear the Forsaken both knew about the glyph and that reality, based on the fact they weren't bothering to speak Common to him.
"Truth be told, meat, I really don't care." The Forsaken woman said. "We found you, and now you belong to us. To use as we see fit."
"…this does not…"
This time, the blow was a full on punch that slammed Zackel's head into the back of the wall again. The darkness surged up in Zackel's gaze once more, though this time it fell away.
"Samsa. Humbert. Fetch my interrogation tools." The female Forsaken said. "Maybe we can actually extract some information from him, and if not, well…it will be a good way to pass the time."
"Yes m'lady Darthalia." Samsa and Humbert said in near-unison.
"You don't have to DO THIS…!" Zackel rasped, causing the Forsaken called Darthalia, who seemed to be in charge, to turn back in his direction. "We don't have to be enemies, you don't have to think…"
The resulting blow from Darthalia ended up tearing open Zackel's cheek. He recoiled and found his feet slipping, his arms wrenched painfully above him as he fell. Darthalia stepped forward, seizing Zackel's face with her knife-like fingers and yanking him up face to face with her.
"You lost the right to tell us anything when you let us die, meat. And if there's one thing I can't stand, it's you bags of water leaking. Well…not without the tint of red anyway." Darthalia said. "Believe me, we are the least of your worries. When I grow bored, I'll turn you over to Apothecary Lydon. I'm sure he'll have some INTERESTING ideas with what to do with…"
A loud, repetitive thud abruptly began sounding from the rear of the room (from where Zackel was positioned, anyway). Darthalia glanced backwards with clear annoyance, before letting Zackel go and wiping her hand on the wall.
"Open that Lesh."
"Yes m'lady." The green-haired Forsaken female said, turning and heading towards a door Zackel couldn't make out in the gloom. The resulting flood of light from the outside momentarily blinded him.
"Hinott?" Zackel heard Darthalia said with clear annoyance. "This had better be important."
"Uh yes, m'lady…I'm afraid there has been…" Was all the Forsaken male managed to get out before the door crashed open again, nearly knocked off its hinges by the impact used to open it.
There was no second blaze of light to re-blind Zackel, because the orc that stomped through the doorway nearly blocked the whole structure.
"HIGH EXECUTOR DARTHALIA." The orc thundered, saying the title like it was the worst of condemnations instead of a position. The striking thing about the orc's face was its upward tusk/fangs: unlike most orcs, this one's teeth had clearly been filed down to end on dull points for some unknown purpose. Everything else, from its massive body, to its purple-black receded long hair, some of which was tied up at the crown of its head in a ponytail/topknot style and the rest composed of a raggedly short cut semi-beard, to its dark yellow-green skin, was traditional to the orc species. Including said species' legendary anger, which was causing Samsa and Humbert to begin reaching towards their weapons and Lesh to back up, clearly looking, despite her desiccated features, like she'd like to be anywhere but here. Zackel could not see the Forsaken named Hinott: he had actually been knocked to his knees by the door's violent entrance, and the orc had grabbed him and hurled him aside before he could react to his presence.
"Prigak. I don't see why…" Darthalia said before the orc's gigantic hand surged forward and seized the Forsaken by the front of her outfit. From the little Zackel could glean, Darthalia had clearly not expected this.
"NO MORE NONSENSE! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF IT FROM YOU!" The orc Prigak snarled. The sound of unsheathing weapons drew the orc's attention, as Samba and Humbert had, with this violent act, reacted in kind and produced their blades.
Unfortunately for them, Prigak was only holding Darthalia with one hand because the other was clutching a bladed mace that looked at big as Zackel. Though with the smoldering intensity in the orc's eyes, Zackel would have believed Prigak could have incinerated the two Forsaken with a gaze.
"YOU HAD BETTER BE SURE." Prigak growled, before turning his attention back to Darthalia, who seemed to be trying to collect herself.
"What is the meaning of this Boneripper? I told you…"
"MY MATE HAS GONE INTO LABOR." Prigak snapped.
"What does that have to do with me?"
"EVERYTHING!!!" Prigak roared, before he smashed Darthalia into a wall. That was enough for Humbert and Samsa, who attacked.
Three seconds later, they were flat on the ground, Prigak having swung around and smashed both of them with one mighty roundhouse mace blow, carrying Darthalia with him before turning a complete 360 and slamming her back into the wall.
"I came here as a show of good faith, to aid your kind with its troubles! Krihina and I should have been on our way back to Orgrimmar or to your Undercity weeks, if not MONTHS ago! Your choices have led us to remain here far beyond our original ken, and honor demanded we do not leave until the task was complete! Even when it began possible that there could be complications with the birth!"
"Why are you wasting time raging at me then orc? Go speak with Voidglare…!"
"VOIDGLARE IS ABSENT. HE HAS LEFT, ON AN ERRAND, DESPITE MY REQUEST THAT HE REMAIN SHOULD THIS HAPPEN. A REQUEST YOU EITHER IGNORED OR FORGOT ABOUT." Prigak raged. "EVEN THAIVAND IS ABSENT, GONE ON THE SAME ERRAND! THERE ARE NO TRANSPORT BATS AT THE HUB, AND ZARISE COULD NOT SAY WHEN ANY WOULD RETURN! KRIHINA HAS DETERIORATED FAR FASTER THEN EVEN I FEARED POSSIBLE: I CANNOT TAKE HER TO HAMMERFALL BY LAND! YOUR IDIOCY HAS TRAPPED ME HERE, SO YOU ARE GOING TO PROVIDE ME A SOLUTION!"
"You dare…" Darthalia stupidly said. That got her Prigak's mace smashing a hole in the wall beside her head.
"I tolerated your viciousness and sadism, and how it affected our efforts, because I was not the one placed in charge here. I even showed tolerance in what happened in Northrend, and how the creature who gave you your orders was involved." Prigak hissed. "Instead of providing me even the most cursory hospitality, you whiled your time away with your abhorrent need to inflict harm. You had best hope there is more to you than that, High Executor, for if you do not provide an answer forth haste, every bit of pain and suffering my mate endures I will visit on your head a thousand times over, the Nether be DAMNED of the consequences. And unless you are swift, that may yet happen any…"
"I can help." Zackel managed to say. To Zackel's somewhat surprise, he actually managed to speak loudly enough to get Prigak's attention, as the orc turned his furious gaze onto Zackel.
"How do you speak Orcish?'
"I don't…it's what you're hearing. Magic. I'm a mage…"Zackel coughed, trying to get to his feet. "I can help you."
"Why would a HUMAN mage want to grant me aid?"
"Believe me…" Zackel coughed, a touch of the brackish water having found its way into his lungs. "That's a good question. It's not pure altruism. It's an exchange. If I get you, and your mate, into proper hands…I get to go free."
"This orc cannot…!" Darthalia yelled, before Prigak tightened his grip on her throat.
"Why should I trust you?" Prigak said. The fact that he didn't immediately dismiss Zackel altogether struck Zackel as a good sign, and he continued.
"Provided the Forsaken haven't destroyed any more of my personal items, which I don't think they have, from what I can see…" Zackel said, gesturing with his head. Prigak's anger towards the Forsaken had allowed Zackel some time to recover and to scan the room, and he'd located his staff and bags set on a table across the room. "I have Runes of Portals. I can use them to get you where you're going. If you don't trust me, you can hold a blade to my throat the whole time and slit it if you think it's necessary. You can even throw me through the portal first to make sure it's real, if you wish…"
"Don't listen to his lies, Boneripper!" Darthalia rasped. "He cannot transport you to any Horde city! Mage transport require attuning, and no human would be attuned to…!"
"She's not wrong." Zackel interrupted. "But I heard what you said about a Voidglare. From it, I gather he was a mage. If you let me have access to some of his magical artifacts…I can use their residual energies to form a one-time portal to the Undercity. I don't know if you have anything that would let me try the same with any other Horde cities, so…"
"We do not." Prigak said, releasing Darthalia from his grip. "You heard the mage. Release him and bring Voidglare's artifacts."
"WHAT? Are you actually…?!"
"I do NOT trust him." Prigak preemptively answered, turning his fearsome glare onto Zackel. "And should I sense even the slightest mote or hint of treachery, I will crush him into a fine paste. But until he proves he truly has nothing to offer, I no longer have the time or options to think otherwise."
"Why should I…?!"
"BECAUSE IF YOU DO NOT, I WILL DESTROY YOU AND EVERY OTHER FORSAKEN IN THIS MILL UNTIL I REACH THE LINK IN THE CHAIN THAT COMMANDS SOME SENSE!" Prigak bellowed. "And from what I have seen in Krusk's eyes, I DO NOT BELIEVE HE WILL TRY AND STOP ME!"
Darthalia inhaled through her nose, the rotten tissue causing the noise to have an oddly moist undertone, and then she turned her head towards Humbert and Samsa, who had finally managed to get back up, minus a few teeth.
"Release the prisoner. Keep your swords on his breastbone and windpipe the whole time. If you even BEGIN to sense magical energies gathering, cut him to pieces." Darthalia said. "Come with me Prigak, I will have to collaborate with Lydon to get the necessary items…"
"Wait…!" Zackel said. "Remember the exchange! If I help you, I go free from harm!"
"It is done." Prigak said, stalking out of the door. Darthalia paused before following, looking back at the mage.
The look of festering hate that the Forsaken gave Zackel made him briefly wondered if staying tied up to be tortured and worse would have been the better option for him.
Then Humbert blocked his vision, the two Forsaken removing the chains from his wrists and making sure they were as rough as possible doing so.
Zackel didn't complain. He couldn't waste the energy.
Another mage saying had occurred to Zackel nearly ten minutes later: what you claim you can do, what you think you can do, and what you can actually do, is rarely what gets done. Of course, whoever had coined that phrase likely hadn't had a frantic orc literally breathing down their neck, which Zackel felt did wonders for one's improvisational efforts.
And improvising was exactly what Zackel had to do. Instantaneous transport by mages was an immensely troublesome business, and one of the later things an apprentice was taught. Any intelligent student quickly realized it was a process that would take months, if not years, of refinement before it could be done with the ease of simpler spells like manipulating temperature.
Firstly, a transport spell, of any stripe, required a Rune of Portals. The Rune stored a very specific kind of magical energy that was needed in addition to the summoner's own to complete the process. Very rare, very skilled mages could perform the spell without the Rune, but the risk of killing oneself, either by frying something vital within the body or making an error in the spell and ending up fused to something else upon arrival, ensured that even those rare elite attempted it. Next, there were technically several different ways one could perform such a spell. The first, and most common level, was to utilize the spell to slightly bend the concept of space and time and open a wormhole between two points. As the mage grew in skill, he or she could potentially learn how to skip even that step and literally use their own body as the wormhole, causing them to blink out of existence and re-appear at a set point (a process also performable with the artifact known as a Heathstone, though that could only return you to one set point, said point not being easily changed). The strongest magicians, after much practice, could bring others along with them in such a process.
Zackel was not that strong or practiced, and worse, he was not attempting to transport to friendly ground. Zackel had offered that possibility, pointing out that there was considerable less risk involved if he tried to transport himself and the orcs to some place like Ironforge. It hadn't worked: the orc had been vehement that he would not enter an Alliance stronghold, no matter what. Strangely, his mate Krihina, brought into the room gingerly by a few Forsaken shortly after Zackel had begun to work, agreed with him, even with her pallid skin and swollen stomach. The Forsaken had tried to pounce on Zackel's suggestion as evidence of his intended recreancy, but Prigak had just bellowed at them to shut up and bring the artifacts that belonged to the absent Forsaken Voidglare faster.
That they had done, and Zackel had gotten to work, settling down in front of the gathered magical items and attempting to get their 'vibe'. Once he'd isolated that, he would initiate a modified version of the wormhole process and attempt to re-direct the 'exit end' to seek out the strongest nearby source of the residual energies Zackel had scanned instead of an area Zackel himself was attuned to. Not only that, but he had to do it fast, and without making his only 'supporter' suspicious that he was attempting a trick to escape.
Zackel suspected he didn't have much slack in either case, and the evidence of that was Krihina. Zackel hadn't seen much of the female orc to really describe her, and he couldn't try and glean more visual information now as he was busy with his other efforts, not to mention she was now lying in the corner on some furs, an occasional low groan emitting from her. If Prigak's seething agitation hadn't motivated Zackel, those sounds would have. There were very few circumstances where Zackel would have enjoyed hearing something in pain.
Even in a situation like this.
"Skaro…antalin…urbanka…freytus…" Zackel whispered, feeling the unpleasant crawl of defiant arcane energies twisting through his body.
"What is TAKING so long?!" Prigak yelled. "You had best not be attempting a trick, mage! Believe me, if I suspect your portal, I may cut you in half instead of throwing you through it!"
"I am VERY aware of the situation, orc." Zackel replied, trying to keep his voice calm as he pressed his hands together. "It won't do you any good if I cannot fully ossify this route, and considering my life is on the line, it won't do me any good to pointlessly delay."
"HURRY!" Prigak snarled.
"I understand your desire for haste, warrior, but there are some things you can only rush so much." Zackel said, feeling the sweat run down his forehead and back. "Artesia…proanom…laylora…"
Zackel clamped his hands together harder, pressing his primary fingers against each other and peering over their tips as the wall behind him to fog in his vision. He was getting it. Despite all the troubles and distractions, he was getting it…
"Detrios…crallica…logomundopsi…"
From the artifacts in front of him, the Rune of Portals began to lift up, faint traces of misty energy flowing from the magical items as it aligned with Zackel's direct line of sight.
"Calufrax drahva…!" Zackel whispered, as the shimmering before him increased. He had a thread. Now he just had to draw it in… "Raxacoricofallapatorius…!"
The Rune of Portals in front of Zackel began to crumble, the dust flying out and towards the shifting colors in front of Zackel, colors that the rest of the room was finally beginning to make out. Zackel blinked sweat out of his eyes, gritting his teeth as a surge of painful energy ran up his spine. Just a touch more…
"Marinus…" Zackel semi-hissed. "Dido…vortis…!"
A loud ripping noise sounded through the air as the portal fully manifested, The rune vanished completely, even as Zackel recoiled backwards, his vision swimming momentarily before it settled. He felt warmth coming from his nose; much to his lack of surprise, his fingers came away moist with blood when he checked the source of the feeling.
"…well, I suppose it could have been worse." Zackel murmured.
The hands seizing him caught Zackel by such surprise that he wasn't able to muster any resistance, the painful claws yanking him to his feet.
"We're not done yet." Darthalia said, as she began to drag Zackel towards the portal, The mage was vaguely aware of Prigak raising a protest, but Zackel didn't get to hear much as Darthalia seized him by the hair.
"WAIT DO-!"
The remains of Darthalia's ears were apparently quite deaf, as she rammed Zackel's head and face into the portal.
Had the wormhole been constructed by another mage, Zackel was quite sure he would have died, or at least been horrendously disfigured. But the portal had been constructed by his hands, and hence being attuned to him, had considerably less of an effect during what occurred.
Which was still something Zackel would not have wanted to experience. Magical transport via portals did not function like a window: it operated more like a brief road that the travelers were drawn along. There was a reason mages generally did not test their portals by contact, or at least tried not to. Inserting body parts would cause you to get yanked into the portal after a few seconds at most, which is why anyone who did testportals by touch made sure they were able to recognize the signs of a properly made one with as brief a contact as possible. Keep it up too long, and 'too long' in this case was not very long at all, and the portal began acting like a vacuum to draw you in.
And if something was holding you in place…
To Zackel, it felt like someone had inserted a dozen dull hooks into his face, eyes, and the bones beneath, and begun to yank on them. The sensation could not be described as painful: a better term would be unnatural, as Zackel experienced something like his head being treated like a bad tooth that had to be pulled. Zackel would have cried out, except there was no air to breath inside the shifting energies of the wormhole…
It was likely he'd only had his head held inside the portal for five seconds at most; unsurprisingly, it felt several times that length when he was finally yanked back out of it. Reality as he knew it rudely announced its return by slamming into Zackel's senses full tilt, an experience that was not helped by Prigak throwing him aside. Zackel crashed down roughly among Voidglare's artifacts, and a random thought chimed in the back of his head that he'd best hope he hadn't broken any, because he was light on funds and couldn't afford to replace them.
The exact details of the yelling behind Zackel were lost on him, understandably. Apparently Prigak was quite irked over Darthalia's action, which she tried to justify by saying she had been making sure that Zackel's efforts were not a trap, to which Prigak had responded that killing or maiming the mage might have damaged or destroyed the portal, or something to that extent, Zackel was too busy making sure his ability to comprehend the world was returning. That and checking to see if his skull and face hadn't been distended like taffy.
It was all he really got to do, as no sooner did he start getting up then he found Humbert and Samsa's blades at his throat. He raised his hands slowly, doing his best to indicate his lack of a threat. Whether that worked or not, Zackel couldn't say: the expressions the pair wore tended towards the immutable.
"What are you doing?!" Prigak growled, stomping over to Zackel's side and making the two Forsaken scatter. Zackel placed his hands down on the ground, planning to rise once more. Prigak did it for him instead, abruptly seizing Zackel by the shoulder and pulling him up like Zackel weighed nothing.
"Come, mage. Let us see if you have any worth." Prigak said, producing a dagger from somewhere and placing it against Zackel's side. "Walk. We shall go through the portal together. If you did not make it stable enough to prevent the blade from piercing your body, or should we emerge in an environment that is even remotely hostile, the poison on my weapon will make you WISH you had kept silent and chained to the wall."
"…okay." Zackel said quietly, as the orc turned him around and approached the portal with him. To Zackel's small surprise, they stopped in front of it.
"You." Prigak said, turning away and pointing his dagger at Darthalia, though he kept his other hand firmly on Zackel's shoulder. "Have my mate prepared for transport when I return. And do not attempt anything, Forsaken. I assure you, there is no revenge for any perceived slight you feel that will protect you from what you will suffer for it."
Darthalia glowered again, from the little Zackel could see, and that little swiftly ended as Prigak turned around and jabbed the end of the dagger into his torso again. The orc said nothing more, stepping into the portal as he took Zackel with him.
Despite the energizing, straining feeling, considerable vertigo, and numbing cold of the wormhole transport, Zackel swore he felt the dagger at his side the whole way.
Luckily for him, the orc had better footing than he did on the wet stone that the pair abruptly appeared on. The end result was him drawing the dagger away as Zackel staggered, before the orc forcibly adjusted Zackel's position and once again put the dagger in place as he looked around.
Zackel had never seen Lordaeron, or the Undercity before…and he really didn't get to see much of it now, as Zackel's improvised portal had caused the pair to emerge in a darker corner of the Magic Quarter instead of up on the main structure that most attuned portals appeared on. However, Zackel definitely got to smell it, as the reek of decay and worse slammed into his nostrils so hard Zackel felt like his sinuses would never get clogged again. He gagged a few times before covering his mouth…which was right around the time that sight again demanded his full attention.
The slow, out of place portal had not gone unnoticed, and several Forsaken guards had gathered. Zackel swallowed at the sight.
"Orc?" One of them said.
"I AM PRIGAK BONERIPPER!" Prigak declared, and proceeded to list some titles and accomplishments that Zackel didn't really pay attention to as he was trying to decide what his next move might have to be.
"So you claim. What is this unusual transport? Did you bring a prisoner?" The Forsaken guard said.
"I have no time for explanations! I demand under our treaties and the services we paid to Dark Lady Sylvannas to be brought to the finest medical practitioners you have! My mate is due to give birth very soon and she is experiencing complications. If you deny me what I need, let me assure you my rage and the rage of my people will shake this tomb apart…!"
"No need to be so dramatic, orc." The Forsaken said, before looking at one of his companions. "Well, you heard him. Fetch Edras, or maybe Father Lazurus. And I take it this is not your mate." The Forsaken guard said, directing the last question back towards Zackel and Prigak as the guard he'd initially addressed hurried off.
"He…established this pathway. I must return through it to retrieve her." Prigak said, taking his hand off Zackel's shoulder and, to his relief, removing the dagger from his side. The relief was short lived, as Prigak turned around and prepared to leave through the portal. Zackel had a feeling the orc would not be conductive to the thought of Zackel accompanying him.
Which meant he was stuck on this end for now.
"And what do you want us to do with him?" The Forsaken guard said, having gleaned the same thing.
"Don't let him leave." Prigak said, and vanished back through the wormhole. Zackel grimaced, before reaching out and doing a brief test of the gateway. As far as he could tell, it was remaining stable, and would for the foreseeable future.
Zackel would have felt prouder of his efforts had the circumstances not been so bad. The low chuckle that sounded behind him made Zackel realize they could yet get worse, and he turned around to see that the Forsaken guards were looking at him with wicked amusement.
"Don't let you leave." The speaking Forsaken said. "Tell me mage…do you know exactly how we could interpret that?"
"…as the orc wanted it?" Zackel managed to say.
"True, true…" The Forsaken guard said, scratching at his rotten nose. "But considering the, you might say, exceedingly atypical nature of how you and he emerged, well…it's quite feasible that we could misunderstand."
Zackel swallowed again, and wondered if he could get one decent spell off before the numbers caught up to him. Considering more Forsaken guards, including an abomination, were approaching with interest, even getting one spell off seemed to be becoming more remote.
"…If you are capable of purposely misunderstanding his request, then you already likely know what it really is. I'd also like to note that harming me could damage this portal, and believe me, any enjoyment you get out of it will not make up for what the orc will do to you." Zackel said.
"You enjoy the sound of your own voice, I can tell." The Forsaken guard said. "Let me tell you something, human. The dead have little use for talk."
"But you're not truly dead, are you?" Zackel said.
From the way the Forsaken's eyes narrowed, Zackel immediately realized he'd said the wrong thing.
"Wait wait! Don't misunderstand! That's not an insult…!"
"If you were in my shoes, mage." The Forsaken guard said. "You'd see just why I consider you wrong."
Zackel wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, and in the end he didn't have to, as the portal crackled behind him and Prigak re-emerged. To Zackel's mild surprise and alarm, he came with just one other: his mate Krihina, who was walking, albeit supported by Prigak. The duo paused a second, as if confirming they were actually in the Undercity, and then Prigak turned towards the Forsaken.
"Where is the requested aid!? I gave you more than enough time!"
"Hold your horses orc. She's here." The Forsaken guard said, as a female Forsaken in a white robe emerged from the crowd and approached Krihina. The two began a discussion that was too low for Zackel to hear, as two more Forsaken, both male, followed the female in the white robe with a stretcher. Krihina waved the stretcher off and began to walk, before a stumble forced the female Forsaken to grab her before Prigak could. Said Forsaken continued to talk quietly to the orc, even as Zackel watched Prigak's darkly concerned features and tried to figure out what to say. In the end, he decided on the direct approach.
"We need to hurry warrior."
"What?" Prigak said, looking at Zackel.
"You and I need to go back through the portal, just long enough for me to get out of Tarren Mill. This doorway is secured, it will stay up another ten minutes at least…"
"Don't be idiotic human! I'm not leaving my mate's side!" Prigak said, turning away.
"Wait wait wait!" Zackel said, raising a hand. "You said that if I helped you as I promised, I'd go free! I carried out my end!"
"As have I, human. You are free, more or less. Unfortunately, circumstances force me to terminate the agreement at that." Prigak said, as Krihina finally settled fully on the stretcher and the two Forsaken began to carry her away under the female's orders. Zackel felt a chill run down his spine. The orc was abandoning him. No matter how understandable the circumstances, it didn't change that he'd essentially freed Zackel's leg from a trap and then not bothered to bandage the wound or deal with the predators who caught the scent of blood…
"Forsaken." Prigak said, speaking to the guards. "This human is to be escorted from your city. WITHOUT doing him harm. If it happens otherwise, you'd best hope I never hear of it."
That was the last thing Prigak said, and the suddenness of the words caused Zackel's eyes to follow him briefly as the orc hurried after his mate. Maybe he'd been too harsh. Despite the less-than-optimum circumstances Zackel was now in, Prigak had lived up to his end of the bargain (more or less, there were those words again). Considering Zackel was a stranger, and of the opposing side in a newly re-ignited Alliance/Horde conflict, and the problems with his mate's pregnancy, Zackel would have been foolish to expect much more.
Then Zackel's eyes turned to the Forsaken guards once more, and the chill returned at an even stronger intensity. Just how far away from optimal the situation was shone in the eyes of the walking dead, the same looks of inscrutable menace that Zackel had seen on Samba and Humbert and were also carried by every single one of the Forsaken who faced the mage.
And Zackel realized that, once again, Prigak's words could be twisted. The Forsaken could very well just bring him outside the city and have their way with him out there. Or bring him to one of the hideous laboratories that supposedly existed in the crypts that made up the Forsaken's capital and make him ingest or inject something that wouldn't take effect until later, until he was out of the city and technically not coming to harm inside it. Or maybe they'd just drag him away to whatever they wanted to do and claim he'd tried something and they were forced to retaliate. Fel, maybe Prigak would forget about him completely.
…Then again, maybe the Forsaken were just screwing with him, their idea of a practical joke. Maybe they'd listen to the orc's commands and do what was asked of them.
Zackel knew they weren't all, by nature, evil at the core.
But here…he couldn't be sure.
And hence, as he looked at them, he made his decision, as he let the second Rune of Portals drop down from inside the sleeve of his robes into his hand. He'd managed to palm it when he'd been tossed among Voidglare's artifacts after Darthalia's little 'test': fortunately for him, he'd had it there already, in case he'd needed it for the initial portal formation. His primary reason for grabbing it was to make sure the Forsaken on the other end didn't take it while he was gone, and he'd originally planned to use it on the other side to get to a safe location.
That plan had gone out the window when Prigak had abandoned him. Back through the portal was just another group of Forsaken who Zackel KNEW didn't like him. In front of him was an even larger group, albeit with unknown motives, but that wasn't good enough. Zackel didn't have enough time on either end to cast a new teleportation spell, even to an area he was attuned to, nor did he have enough magical power or skill to fight off his enemies.
That left one option.
"Shall we go?" The Forsaken guard asked.
"Yes. Let's." Zackel said.
And he turned and leapt back into the portal he'd come from, shoving his right hand in first…
As he crushed the Portal rune at the same time and whispered one single magical word.
In the Undercity, the Forsaken guards looked upon the sight with some surprise, before they moved to follow. In Tarren Mill, Darthalia and her fellow Forsaken saw the portal light up, and knew someone was coming.
What neither side knew was what Zackel had done, something Zackel had counted on and dearly hoped for.
Portals were unnatural creations: any mage worth their salt knew that. They were hard enough to establish, and you could not change their destination in mid-transport (and the few attempts there had been to do something like that had had rather…lamentable results). Hence, when mages were being taught to create them, they were also taught to not use any second or new Portal runes too close to them. If a Rune of Portals was triggered too close to an already established one, said portal would 'cannibalize' the energy released by the artifact, and since a portal couldn't be 'overloaded', and said portal had already been established and couldn't be 'improved', the wormhole would have no choice but to immediately vent the excess energy out through both ends of the gateway.
This was not a problem to the mage who had created the portal: their energy had been used to establish it, and a venting of an excess amount of it would, at worst, knock them down and give them a whole body sensation of pins and needles for a brief period of time.
To anyone else…the key word about a portal was unnatural. And no body reacted well to a sudden blast of unnatural energies.
The end result was the arcane surge that erupted out of the portal inside the Tarren Mill structure and the depths of the Undercity, to the Forsaken caught in it, felt like a giant hand had smashed them into the ground. And that was not the worst part for them. The worst part was eldritch power searing itself into their cells, momentarily paralyzing them and leaving them unable to move. Even as changed as the body of the undead were, they were similar enough to the living.
However, the Forsaken guards in the Undercity were not trained mages, and for all they knew, the explosion out of the portal had outright (re)killed their companions. Hence, the Forsaken behind the frontline guards in the Undercity immediately recoiled away from the magical attack, falling back and assuming a defensive position while calling for more reinforcements. By the time they realized their error, it was too late.
The Forsaken in Tarren Mill had no such luxury, for as potent as the portal wave was, it was also nearly silent. The four of them were completely alone in the building, with no indication given to the outside of what had happened and no ability to summon aid. They were left alone and motionless on the ground, unable to move anything but their eyes.
Zackel settled down on the floor inside the building, shaking his head to clear the buzzing noise. Glancing around to make sure all the Forsaken inside the building were disabled, Zackel quickly turned around and held out his hands.
"Gallifrey."
The portal collapsed on itself, the passageway between the Mills and the Undercity closing off and preventing any of the Forsaken there from following him. Zackel turned around quickly once more, making absolutely certain he hadn't miscalculated and that none of the Forsaken where he was were getting up. They weren't, but Zackel had no idea how long that would last.
It was time to get moving.
Zackel was saved the need to hunt for his gear: it was still on the same table he had seen before. Zackel quickly retrieved his bags and miscellaneous items and snatched up his staff, doing a quick sweep around the room to make sure he had everything. Finding nothing else, he turned back to the fallen Forsaken and walked over to them.
Black, naked hate burned in the eyes of the one called Darthalia. Zackel met the gaze, returning it with an impassive observation in turn. After several seconds, he raised his staff.
"If you remember anything, remember this. I am not you." Zackel said.
Zackel didn't say anything else, instead turning to one of the other things he'd observed before he'd been called upon to open the portal. The window in the back of the house. A gnome device allowed him to swiftly cut the glass from its panes and drop it onto the grass outside.
Zackel slipped out and immediately stole into the woods. After doing some examining of his compass, and some luck, he managed to double back on his steps and make his way to the road that passed by Tarren Mill, where he quickly plunged back into the opposing woods where he'd originally been captured. If he was lucky, his misdirection would last long enough for him to get away.
It did, as Zackel traveled through the woods and up the hills until he reached the Alliance Camp outside Alterac Valley.
If the Forsaken sent people in pursuit, he never saw them.
"And that…was pretty much it." Zackel said. "I gave the Forsaken a few days while I recuperated at the camp from my 'injuries', and then I set off to the Alterac Mountains again via a considerably longer route. Unfortunately, the camp didn't have the means to replace my Heathstone or my Runes of Portals. And since you left your Heathstone back at the Wintergrasp camp so enemy forces couldn't use it if you were captured…we're trapped here."
Rielle was silent. She'd been silent throughout the entire story, and her face had slowly grown to be as impenetrable as the Forsaken Zackel had fled from. Even Zackel's supposed finale hadn't changed it.
"…I should have gone back to Southshore and replaced them." Zackel said. "I should have swallowed my pride and faced the possible mockery that awaited me there. But after that…the whole experience was so unpleasant that I just wanted to forget it. If I went back there after my claims and the reaction to them…I'd lose my chance to do that. So I made excuses to myself that I didn't need them, and went off without them. So I was wrong, and stupid, and for that I'm sorry Rie…"
Rielle's hand was on Zackel's throat and yanking him up before he even realized the draenei had moved.
"More than you think." Rielle snarled, before she slammed Zackel into the wall so hard Zackel swore he felt it start to give, the shockwave of force paralyzing his body.
And the impact wasn't just physical. Zackel had expected that Rielle's blankness would reveal anger when all was said and done, but he was completely floored at just HOW angry Rielle looked. This wasn't her snapping, defiant anger or her force-to-knees-and-grovel kind. The cold fury that had suffused Rielle's face was simply, absolutely terrifying.
"…Rielle, wait…"
"No no no Zackel. Enough talk. Quite frankly I've had enough of my face being shoved into JUST HOW SOFT YOUR HEAD IS. I THINK IT'S ONLY MATCHED BY YOUR IDIOTIC HEART." Rielle hissed, her eyes burning.
"I-I-I-I didn't have a choice! Surely you understand…!"
"I understand more than you realize. That's why I'M PISSED." Rielle raged. "I want you to think, Zackel. Think like you believe I can't. Think over all you did. Where the hole is."
Zackel stared incomprehensively.
"Like I said. IDIOT." Rielle snapped. "I could forgive why you don't have any Portal runes, or not dealing with those Forsaken while you were down. I could even forgive you not going back to Southshore because you were too BRAIN-DEAD. But you told the story hoping I wouldn't be bright enough to see where it all becomes bullshit…!"
"W-what?"
"You were RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE PORTAL! YOU HAD THE RUNE, YOU PICKED IT UP JUST BEFOREHAND! AND YOU WEREN'T STILL GROGGY AND DAZED!" Rielle yelled. "That orc took his dagger and attention off you! You could have crushed the Rune there, you said that overload would happen if the Rune was activated close enough, you could have whispered the word under your breath, and BOOM! The pulse would have paralyzed everyone inside the building right then and there, and you could have grabbed your things and run for it then! And I know you knew you could do that at the time, ZACK, DESPITE TRYING TO GLOSS OVER IT. I READ IT IN YOUR FACE."
Zackel had no reply, as Rielle pulled him in closer.
"Instead, you used your little trick when there weren't any other options. Instead of the first, and best time. So why didn't you, Zack? Why did you wait? What held you back? Tell me what I know drove you to not do it, mage, and don't lie to me. Don't you DARE lie to me."
"…If I'd done it then…I could have harmed the female orc. Caused her to…" Was all Zackel got out before Rielle turned and hurled/smashed him to the ground.
"Precisely. You acted in such a way to make sure the female orc got proper medical care. You put your neck on the line for ONE OF THE THRICE-DAMNED HORDE. Not because you had to. Because you CHOSE to. You WEERKUAY BASTARD."
"Rielle, please…"
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE ORCS DID TO MY PEOPLE?! DO YOU?! DO YOU?!" Rielle nearly screamed. "You think you humans had it bad? Having one of your kingdoms destroyed? The orcs destroyed OUR WHOLE WORLD. THEY MASSACRED MY PEOPLE. They didn't just try and kill us, they tried to VIOLATE US. RUIN US. I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANY FEL CORRUPTION DETAILS!!! I WAS THERE! I WATCHED EVERYTHING I KNOW BURN, SUFFER, AND WITHER AWAY! I SPENT YEARS HIDING IN THE ZANGERMARSH WITH WHAT REMAINED OF MY PEOPLE, SPENDING EVERY WAKING HOUR IN TERROR AND EVERY SLEEPING ONE THINKING I MIGHT NEVER WAKE UP AGAIN! Do you really know what that's like, mage? DO YOU REALLY THING OUR SAINTED REPUTATION HAS HEALED ALL THE SCARS OF THAT TIME?! BECAUSE YOU WOULD BE DEAD WEERKUAY WRONG!"
"Rielle…"
"And you claim to be my friend. You know so little, and yet…I let you…"
"Rielle, please! I didn't know you! I didn't know I'd meet you! How could I? You can't project current experience into the past, there's nothing down that route but pain and madness…!"
"Don't talk to me of pain. You're a child when it comes to pain. A child in all ways." Rielle said. "You don't understand the Horde. You don't understand why you should be regretting what you did, instead of just recounting it like you did a good thing, or the best available thing. You can't understand. I should have been able to tell that. From all I've seen of you, and all I've seen of myself."
"Rielle…"
"Is that why you keep drawing back? Keep giving me those horrified looks? Because you can't accept the fact that I consider the Horde barely a step above Arthas' legions?"
"…what?"
"Come ON, Zack. You think I haven't noticed all those weird zoned-out moments you've had? Where you stop seeing me, and just see…what you can't stand about me? You who thinks, so dearly WANTS TO THINK, that the Horde is just misunderstood and waiting for the right time when we can finally live in peace? Faced with the Draenei who knows the truth, a truth you both deny and despise, and in turn condemn me for it? You think you have the right to JUDGE MY HARD-EARNED EXPERIENCE, ASSHOLE?"
Zackel stared, at a complete loss. Rielle looked back for a few seconds before turning away.
"Tomorrow morning you go out there and you stay out there until you find a way to stop that storm. I don't care how long it takes. I'm done tolerating this and ignoring what's right in front of my face." Rielle said, as she kicked Zackel's furs over to him. "Better get some sleep now. You might not get any after."
Zackel looked down at the bedding, and when he looked back at the draenei she'd completely turned away from him, throwing wood on the fire before she knelt and stared at it. Zackel didn't need Rielle's skills in reading faces and body language to know she was still seething.
He wanted to go over to her, to try and find the words that would take back what had happened…and he knew if he did she'd probably break his jaw.
In the end, he had no choice but to try to go to sleep. It was a long time coming.
And as he finally drifted off, Zackel could swear he heard a mocking voice laughing at him.
I told you.
All the things you think you share, all those brief feelings…as insubstantial as the wind. Her true self is a seething ball of hate.
Just like the other. All you've seen, all you've recalled…you know it's true.
You will never have anything. The only thing she will give you is more things to lose.
Why did you sleep?
She could be planning to kill you right now…
Kill her.
Killer.
Kill…
Zackel was aware of the hand on his shoulder as he surged out of sleep. He raised his own hand in turn.
And slammed it down on the floor, knuckles first. The old, familiar pain fully snapped him back to reality, and he whirled around to see the source of the touch.
"Yeesh. Even when sleeping you try and hurt yourself. How the fel did you live this long?" Rielle said, already walking away.
"Wha? Huh?" Zackel said, blinking.
"You were having a nightmare. Again. Soft-headed mage." Rielle said, settling back down by the fire. "Woke you up. Go back to bed, my words still stand."
"…Rielle?" Zackel said, as what had happened settled on him. Another nightmare. Another mocking whisper telling him supposed truths and inevitable acts. And Rielle still clearly feeling angry and betrayed.
Zackel watched Rielle for a second, before he put a hand over his face. The old familiar pain in his hand had brought a clarity he'd been lacking before.
Something was off. Zackel been too floored by the whole experience beforehand to realize it then, but on top of Rielle's incredible anger at Zackel's story…
And wasn't it strange just how violently she'd reacted
…Rielle had also indicated she'd drastically misunderstood something Zackel had done. She thought that his brief blackouts were due to disgust he felt towards her about the way she felt about the Horde, a conclusion she'd reached based on how Zackel had acted to try and save Krihina's life and had reacted to based on such.
She did not know the truth of said looks.
The truth that had haunted Zackel ever since that day.
In not knowing it, she had become furious at him, a rage that threatened, seemingly already had, to consume everything they'd made-
-and yet, when he'd clearly been in the grips of whatever nightmare he'd just had, she'd come over and brought him out of it. For all her anger…she'd done that.
If Zackel just did what she said, it might well, likely would be, the last act of kindness she ever showed him.
Unless he told her the truth. The whole truth. And faced whatever consequences it itself brought. For all he knew, everything was already broken beyond repair, and this would just set the wreckage on fire.
Or maybe…just maybe…
"What are you doing?" Rielle said, looking coldly at Zackel as he knelt down next to her. "Don't bother apologizing Zack. I don't want to hear it. Nothing you say is going to change what I've decided."
"…it's not…what I said…that is relevant here. It's what you said." Zackel said. "You talked about the moments I had, where I seemed to be looking at you and casting judgment. You thought it was because of what you believe about the Horde. It's not. It has nothing to do with you."
"Fine. Don't care." Rielle said, turning away.
"…………..I lied." Zackel said. "After what happened with Jasciona, I gave a spiel about how power changes you, and how I wanted to be careful with it and advance at my own pace…but that wasn't how I thought then. Back then, all I could think about was what my power, my magic, had cost me…and how after that, I wanted nothing to do with it. Instead of trying to find my own path, I curled up in a ball and tried to block the world out. Neglected my studies. Stopped adventuring with my friends. Maybe I was stupid in Hillsbrad, but that doesn't even begin to compare to my stupidity then. And what it ultimately cost me."
Rielle said nothing, but Zackel sensed that, maybe even despite herself, she was listening.
"Or rather, what it cost my brother."
With that, Rielle glanced at Zackel, though she remained silent. Zackel, feeling that speaking at the time would be a poor choice, also went quiet.
"…I don't recall you…mentioning a brother."
"I did. I just never specified who he was…it was easier that way. Easier to forget. To block it out." Zackel said, before sighing. "I've never told anyone this. Not my parents, not my teachers, no one. No amount of alcohol has ever come close to revealing…what happened the day that caused me to have those states that you thought was me condemning you. If we'd never met, I…might have never told anyone. But…you don't deserve that. You deserve to know why I did what I did. The whole truth. Whatever the consequences might be."
"Don't think this will change anything."
"Maybe not." Zackel said. "This is why I looked at you that way, Rielle. Not because of the Horde. Because of the Legion."
"…the Legion?"
"The day the Dark Portal opened." Zackel said. "The day the Burning Legion marched on Stormwind. The day I…failed Daldion."