Ch 16 - Path of the Ghost Wolf

King Varian Wrynn surveyed the land below the battlements. He pulled off his helm and wiped his brow as he watched the Scourge/Risen army relentlessly come forward. The Risen were easy to pick out. They had their tattered Scarlet Crusade tabards still hanging from their putrid bodies dangling like the derelict sails of sea wrecked ships.

Anduin came to his side alongside Highlord Mograine. Varian had been impressed that though the lad had his step mother's wish for peace, he had his father's warrior skills along with the priest healing of the Light that he had learned while staying in Ironforge for a time. Varian knew well that Rhenn herself could and had fought when threatened even though she preferred words to actions. Thrall had once commented to Varian that his wife was a shaman of the water elements few had seen in the world. Thrall could control and use all the elements and was arguably the greatest shaman in Azeroth, but Rhenn, though limited to the element of water, was just as powerful in his own opinion. In fact, Thrall argued she might even be more adept at the element of her choice than he was at it. The Tuskarr were powerful shaman having studied the elements for centuries and Rhenn had learned from the tradition. Rhenn had said more than once that her milk sister Uma had also been a shaman, but had been a mistress of fire and a fire keeper. Her death had not only impacted the family, but the clan for no other knew how to keep the sacred fires or control the wild element. Some of the clans had even forgotten this magic and part of them was lost. Perhaps, Varian mused, that was the destiny of all races, to rise, to be powerful, to lose faith, to forget, and to die out.

Anduin bowed to his father. Varian nodded to them as he looked out over the Forest. Much of the trees had been cut down by the people of Stormwind to dry for firewood, to use for trebuchets on the battlements, and to rebuild what was broken after the siege. It also prevented the undead host from using it against them.

"What goes on at Northshire?" Varian asked of Mograine. The small area had been heavily fortified and was where the wounded were taken and the dead to be buried. The Knights of Ebon Blade were divided between the Northshire grounds, the City of Stormwind, and still others, most of the ones Darion trusted most were left behind to continue side by side with Highlord Fordring in pressing toward Icecrown Citadel.

"It is quiet. Helene is being missed, but the healers are making a field hospital in the Northshire Abbey. Many have been released to fight once more of those injured." Mograine said.

"Good." Varian said. He sighed. It was easier to be in a military mindset with his beloved out of the city, but he still had her nagging his conscious. She was so close to giving birth and what if in the country no one knew how to help her. Here there were healers abound and she would be safe in childbirth, but not safe from the unholy army before him. It was easier to press his personal feelings aside and be the military leader that was required, but even still at times like this his mind wondered.

Mograine nodded and walked to speak with two of his Ebon Blade Captains nearby.

Varian wondered too, if the undead Highlord, thought on his young pretty wife. Helene was in the line of succession by an act of the House of Nobles that he had put before him. After the heirs of his body and the heirs of his heirs, of which no current child held the position, than the crown would be passed in order should he pass, Anduin, the babe Queen now carried, Jamiy, Helene, and Alanis. From there Jamiy's children and so forth. Though he well knew that the House of Wrynn could end with Anduin and give rise to a new dynasty, he well knew that two of his step children had taken his name, and Highlord Mograine would not be a King should the crown pass to Helene. He would be the prince consort. Varian doubted he would pass and was even surer that Anduin would not die. He would have his son leave and seek out his step mother and find a place to reside as he had when Stormwind had fallen when he was but a boy.

Varian looked out over the legions of undead and spotted two necromancers and a tall winged being with them. A dreadlord. He balled his fists and turned away knowing this demon was responsible for the deaths of thousands of Scarlet Crusaders and then raising them as mindless undead servants that were bent to his will. The only credit that Varian could give Sylvanas and her Forsaken was they had fought back and won their freedom as had the Knights of Ebon Blade.

"You seem deeper in thought, Varian." A female voice said. He turned with a smile. His friend, the blood elf rogue, Valeera Sanguinar was standing nearby. She was one of the few people he could say he trusted with his life. He sighed. He had wished to send her with his queen, but that would have made her presence known to many.

"Greetings Valeera." He said warmly.

She looked out and sighed. "A few thousand against us. Good odds huh? I think we had worse odds in the Crimson Ring."

Despite himself the king smiled. The young blood elf he had befriended as a gladiator was a keen observer. She was yet young and spent much of her time traveling with the New Council of Trisfal, but her home was now Stormwind. The King had seen to that and Rhenn had taken a shine to the young rogue as well.

She took a breath. "What are we going to do with them?"

He looked out over the field. "Destroy them." He said coldly.

ZzZ

Helene was dressed in the dark nearly black robes with silver. Like many of the healers here she wore a cowl with a veil over her nose and mouth. It was the common healer gear and was a mark of their trade. Already they were treating people who had been struck by arrows and the like.

Helene was determined to do good here. She had lied to her husband that she had left and was safe. Though Northshire was a fortified enclave, if Stormwind fell, so too would Northshire and the entire human nation.

Helene was glad her mother was safely away and Kallin too. Ellsa and Emily were in Lakeshire, trapped, but the town was holding its own well, or so the reports went. The Risen army seemed more concerned about cutting off Stormwind than razing towns now and so they appeared to be safe. Remy was in the castle acting as the decoy for the queen. The handmaiden had been selected because of her likeness to the queen at Varian's request. She was slightly taller, but had been born and raised in the Stormwind and Lorderon aristocracy. Calia Hastings had gone with her husband on a SI:7 mission and had not reported back. However, Helene was not surprised. The rogue guild did nothing without Varian's permission and yet there was very little they did not have their hands on in the kingdom.

She sat down on the side of a cot and took a deep breath as she pulled down her veil.

"When was the last time you slept Helene?" A soft male voice asked her.

She looked up at Archbishop Benedictus standing near her. His yellow robes and kind older face made him distinctive as he leaned on his staff watching her. She was his greatest protégé and he was already grooming her to replace him when the time came for him to step down. He smiled at her in almost a fatherly way.

"Two days ago." She said softly. "I think."

"I had been told you would be out of the area." He said.

She smiled lightly. "I am needed here."

"Dedication to a cause can be taken to excess, my child."

"Indeed." She said looking at him. "You are more devoted to the Light than any other I know." She said. He offered a smile and dipped his head.

"True enough." He said. He chuckled. "Come have you eaten? You need your strength. Soon we will have many to care for not the few now and we will be on our feet for hours."

Reluctantly she followed him into the Abbey for a meal of soup and bread. It was not what she was used to, but filling. The Archbishop ate with her and watched her as she ate silently.

After he sent her to rest in the Abbey dormitory until daybreak. He himself would wake her, but for now she needed rest. He had a sense of foreboding about what was to come. Many deaths and many injured souls would come to them soon. He went to check on Helene and found her resting peacefully in a back corner of the dormitory on a cot. He pulled the blanket up to her chin and smiled softly. If he had had a daughter, he would have liked one like Helene, beautiful, charming, and a fair nature that was rivaled only by her equally beautiful mother, the queen.

Soundlessly he walked from the room and went to check on the few patients that had not been released yet.

ZzZ

It was evening and the army of undead had led an assault on the gates. It had been repelled within a couple hours, but not without costing several guards their lives and others being injured by the hay balls with burning pitch that had been hurled into the city to start chaos within.

The injured man was laid down gently on the cot in the field tent. He was screaming in pain. His leg from below his lower thigh was blackened charred flesh and bone. It was beyond repair and Benedictus knew it. He nodded to Helene who came to him and gently knelt by him. He seemed to calm as she offered him a mild sedative. He looked at her framed in the light from the lamps.

"Are you an angel? Am I dead?" He asked.

"No." She said gently. She smiled at him and he tried to smile back as Benedictus cut through the bone with two cuts of his hatched saw that had been developed by the gnomes to make amputation easier and faster with less trauma on the patient.

"You are very brave." Helene soothed as Benedictus made a poultice and began to try to assess the damage of what was left."

"Tell my girl, I love her." The soldier whimpered.

"What is her name?"

"Annie." He said softly, his voice slurring from the sedative and from his body partly going into shock.

Helene took his hand. "You will tell her yourself." She said firmly taking his hand.

Helene saw him moved to the recovery tent before she went into the fresh air outside the tents for a moment. The crickets were chirping in the grass and the air was fresh out here. There was not the stench of blood, urine, and vomit, which was the common scent within the trauma ward due to the surgeries done there. She took a breath and leaned against the tent pole a moment. She had not slept in almost two days and it was starting to catch up with her.

"Excuse me, my lady, I have a cut I was hoping you could stitch." A metallic cool voice said. Helene stiffened knowing the voice. She quickly pulled her veil over her face. She looked up at the all too familiar figure of the leader of the Ebon Blade.

She nodded and nodded to a free cot near a lantern. She dropped down with silken thread and a curved needle to sew the gash along the outside of his powerful thigh. He had removed the armor that he held in his hands. It was dented as if struck by a powerful unearthly blow. The gash appeared to have been made by the metal rather than a blade itself. She knelt and began to sew her fingers trembling a little. She had an odd longing to feel the thighs around her for both comfort and a sudden oncoming of lust. She was glad for her veil so the Death Knight leader could not see her cheeks turn scarlet as she realized where her mind was going.

Her eyes flicked up and she looked down again noticing he was watching her. His eyes narrowed a little and she looked down again and added a stitch. His hand reached down and caught her arm like a vice. He lifted her bodily to face him as his free hand pulled down the veil and he gasped in recognition and then his eyes flared white in anger.

"What are you doing here?" He growled, doing nothing to hide his fury.

Helene though she was nervous of the sudden violence she read in his eyes and body posture, knew most of the anger came from love and fear for her life. She gasped as he stood bringing her with him as if she were little more than a ragdoll.

"You'll tear the stitches…" She squeaked.

He held her on her tip toes glaring at her. "I don't give a damn at the moment. Why the hell are you here?" He raged.

She looked up at him. "I was needed here." She said defiantly. She stared boldly at him.

Darion felt his ire ebb. He knew he could not force her to leave now. He then pulled her into his embrace and held her tight. "I would have preferred you away from this." He said giving her a little shake. She then smiled up at him and she saw his look soften as he pulled her to him again and sighed. "Doing good is what you have always done, to a fault. Perhaps more will live with your skilled hands, my love." He looked at her. "But I would rather die than see you harmed or risen as an undead like me."

She looked at him. "I save lives." She said.

"Yes." He nodded and pressed his cool lips to her brow. "This was not what I wished at all, but I will have to make due." He narrowed his eyes and cupped her chin. "Never cross me again wife." He growled.

She knew he was serious and she cowered slightly and nodded. He then kissed her deeply putting his emotions into the kiss. She winced at the pressure, but did not pull back. He pulled back and looked down at her.

Another Death Knight walked in. His pointed ears, white skin, and lithe build marked him as an elf. His look was that of a high or blood elf. He came to Darion Mograine and bowed a little to his leader. He then bowed deeper to Helene.

"Koltira." Darion greeted his subordinate. "My wife Helene." He said.

"Your beauty is more than the rumors." Koltira said. Helene blushed and Koltira looked back at his leader.

"Guard her with your life." Darion said. "Assist her as you can with her noble cause."

Koltira had been a blood knight before Thassarian, his brother in death had killed him and he had been raised. He nodded to his superior. "She will be safe with me." He said.

Helene scoffed. "I will keep him alive for you, my lord." She said.

Darion unfolded his arms and replaced his helm as he walked from the scene. Koltira looked at the human woman. "It is an odd relationship to be married to an undead is it not?"

She turned to him. "Odd is not the word I would use. We are both comfortable and I know I am loved."

"How can you be sure? Our souls are damned."

She looked at him. "Some things one just knows." She looked at her husband's retreating form. "Whatever remains of his heart and soul is mine and I am happy to have such a gift."

The death knight nodded accepting the answer.

ZzZ

King Varian Wrynn watched from the battlements of the great city. The countless undead had taken over the town of Goldshire thus cutting off the city from Northshire by the road. However, the underground tunnels kept the injured and dying able to receive treatments. Helene had wished to help with the front lines, but her husband had forbidden it. Varian had agreed with him on that score. He had made sure his step daughter and the archbishop were in charge of the field hospital.

Brother Crowley, the onetime emissary of the Scarlet Crusade, was now in charge of the dead. Because of the scourge threat, the names of the dead were cataloged and then once a day vineyard a pyre was made to make sure that those who had died in service to the lands would not be raised to fight against them. It was a macabre task, but someone had to do it.

The King's hard features seemed harder as he watched his men keeping the undead army at bay. It was a clever game of chess. Though he had many generals at his disposal, he found himself gauging the enemy. As a gladiator he knew he must bide his time and destroy the undead. It seemed an interesting pact, the Risen and the Scourge, but perhaps in undeath they viewed each other as brothers and sisters. He did, however, somewhat doubt this. The scourge were mindless followers of the Lich King's will. The Risen, from what little interaction he had heard from survivors, were restless, angry, and seeking revenge that all seemed to be channeled toward the Alliance.

Varian crossed his arms over his chest and looked down. He had a plan. A plan he never would do unless his son, his wife, and his coming baby were safe. Anduin, though a diplomat like his step mother was helping with the wounded as well. He was within Northshire for now aiding his step sister. He was a trained priest, though he skills were nothing like that of Helene or Benedictus, perhaps he would learn well from them and stay out of harm's way. Varian almost smiled. Trouble seemed to follow his son, even now, though he seemed not to be looking for it these days. The king shook his head clearing it. The boy was grown up and he would make a fine king when Varian passed.

Varian looked down at his plans. He would have to be the one thing he had not been in years, a ghost. Or more precisely, a ghost that killed, a ghost wolf, Lo'Gosh. He knew his plan was daring. It involved climbing the hills around Northshire, flanking the enemy while they were otherwise engaged, and then killing the leaders. He knew it was both daring and suicidal. If it failed, he and likely many would perish. He sighed rolling up the map and looking out again. Goldshire had been overrun and there, somewhere, was the enemy. Rogue Master Mathias Shaw, leader of Varian's intelligence group known as SI:7 was out in the field gathering information. He had already lost several good rogues and Varian felt their loss.

The siege would no doubt double Stormwind's losses of life. Though the allies were also aiding the great fortified town, civilians were also within the town, many gathered in Cathedral Square in order to pray, read the logs of fallen lost ones, or just to find solace with other civilians. Many of the men and some of the women had taken up arms as a militia to patrol within the city itself since they lacked formal training. Many were farmers and herders, but were at least decent marksmen. Some even had been brought to join the SI:7 sharpshooters on the battlements to keep the undead from coming near.

Varian knew that the undead could not tunnel from Goldshire since the earth was lava rock and solid. The tunnel that was between Northshire and the Keep had taken years to build and had required the best dwarves and gnome engineers to be involved in order to prevent a collapse.

He sighed and allowed his mind to wonder for a moment to his wife. Rhenn was safe from this, but he still wondered after her when Varian, his loving husband side was more in control. Lo'Gosh seemed to be able to push her from his mind as needed to focus on what needed to be done. His personality was forever split due to Onyxia and he found it a blessing and a curse.

Soon all too soon, Lo'Gosh would again be remembered as he was as a gladiator. The glory, the pain, the rewards, and the need for more victories would surge through him. Stormwind would be saved or be overrun with his plan. He would fight as a gladiator, cold, cunning, and calculating with his SI:7 agents and others with him to strike the heart of the army.

zZz

Helene ducked under the tent flap. She had been resting and felt refreshed as she wiped her hands on a clean towel. A young woman lay on the bed with a stick between her teeth. She held an infant in her arms and was trying to hush it though she was clearly in pain.

Helene gently looked at the baby who was a little fussy, but then lifted him up. She turned and handed him to Koltira Deathweaver, whom she knew was behind her. He followed her everywhere making sure she was well, watching over her, and helping her as needed. He took the babe nervously and the babe sensed his awkwardness and began to wail.

Helene looked the woman over. She was the first civilian Helene had had come, but there would doubtless be more because of the catapults of the undead army throwing burning pitch and stone trying to weaken the great gate and the twenty foot thick wall.

"What happened?" Helene asked.

"I heard a crash and rocks fell on me. I could not move." She pointed to her leg. "The officer told me it was crushed."

Helene turned and smiled at the death knight. "Have you ever held a child, Koltira?" She asked.

"I was pursuing a mate when she died in my arms and I was killed and taken." He looked at the child and she gently directed him on how to hold the baby. Soon the baby eased and Helene looked at the woman.

She looked at the leg. It was severely crushed and had to be removed. However, Helene was hesitant. The surgery was risky and the woman had a baby. However, to not remove the limb would allow it to putrefy and she would get gangrene and possibly die from the infection.

Helene sighed and prepped the woman for surgery. Benedictus removed the limb as the young mother lay drowsy from the medicine and biting the stick. She passed out from the pain. Benedictus looked at her and touched her cheek. "I have never had a braver patient." He said softly casting a pain suppression spell and healing.

Around midnight Koltira went and checked the woman. He found she was staring upwards at the tent, unmoving. Benedictus looked up at him and shook his head as he pulled the sheet over her face. Two brothers lifted the limp form and carried her to the abbey. Soon she would join the others in the mass burnings in order to keep the souls and bodies of the dead souls their own.

Koltira found Helene under a nearby tree. The small infant was babbling as she let him rest against her knees. She moved his tiny hands as he sat there. Koltira knelt beside her. "His mother passed." He said softly.

"I know. Another orphan." She said. She sighed and looked up at the death knight. He smiled and took the baby.

"Come I will take him to the cathedral. For now you need rest." He looked at the baby who looked like he was falling asleep.

She nodded, for once not fighting the thought as she walked back to the abbey where the priest's lodgings were. She fell asleep, but her mind was filled with nightmares. Her step father being injured, the city becoming weakened, and many, many dead.