Chapter 11:
'All four of you have served me well, far beyond any other treading in the fields. The mark of the Scourge has been burned into these Scarlet lands to never be forgotten. You have reaped death and destruction for as far as the eye can see and delivered to me the last of the Scarlet armies.'
Our master lifts his arm and points at New Avalon.
'The time has come to finish what you have started!'
The Scarlet Apocalypse he called it. I wonder if the master and the strange elves had actually known it would end like this, right from its beginning.
'There must come an end to all things, my four proud death knights. They are preparing to make their final stand against us. They have no way to escape, trapped facing obliteration they will fight back with all the ferociousness that is left in their hearts.' He makes a short pause, for us to catch up. 'We will unleash true terror upon them. And you four shall be the ones to lead the charge against them!'
Salanar the horseman approaches us from the side.
'As the troops charge the armies in the fields, you will direct them from up above!'
Above? I'd prefer to jump right into the midst of their warriors and let my blade sing its song of death and decay rather than just looking at them from afar...
'On the back of my frostwyrms you will become death itself. Take the horn Salanar gives to you.'
Each one of us receives this gift of the master, all crafted from pure white bones.
'With the horns you can call them. But only a single wyrm will respond to each call, its icy breath will freeze the Crusaders where they stand. Now, go! Go out into the fields where the frostwyrms can land and bring death to the Scarlet Crusade! Offer their souls to Frostmourne and let our army grow even further!'
The voice fades from my mind as we stand up.
I look at the horn in my hand, turning it around a few times. It feels incredibly light, nothing I had ever held before, also giving away a faint streak of dark magic woven carefully into its structure deep down below the surface.
The other three next to me doing about the same, I quickly wonder what we are waiting for and summon my horse. I am the first to ride off into Havenshire. From the corner of my eye I see how Orbaz is growing angry. I guess I just managed to bail out from his 'giving orders'?
I let my deathcharger run as fast as it possibly can, even though it's not that far away.
I have no intention on waiting for the other three. Orbaz is growing way too narcissistic when it comes to being in charge for my liking. He clearly loves hearing his own voice and commanding people around like they are nothing..., again something I understand concerning the elf, but me? No..., not a chance in hell!
The moment my mount steps on the soft earth of the fields I blow into the horn and get off my steed to dismiss the fiend to the realm of shadows.
I turn my head to Acherus the moment I hear a loud flapping noise. Large wings are whirling the air around, closing in on me very fast.
What truly a remarkable creature! Carefully the undead dragon lands next to me turning its head so it can see me with both his eyes at the same time. They glow brightly in an icy blue having you almost feel the chill solely from looking at them.
The creature had been reduced to the mere bones and claws from its former life. Every else, except for maybe a thin layer of what formerly might have been skin between its wings and the spikes on its head, had rotten away a long time ago.
The skull of the dragon is frighteningly similar to the one of a horse although I'm sure it's not nearly as fragile.
Between the large ribs of its body, close to the spine, right in the center I find the source of its unholy power: a small glowing magical orb of purest frost and shadow. White vapors are coming from it and filling up the whole body of the wyrm, giving it essence and with that undeath.
I guess after this battle I should ask the master if I might keep one of these for myself. Maybe he finds himself in a generous mood.
The frostwyrm readily crouches down pressing itself onto the earth so I can get onto its back with ease.
As I take a look to the side I see how Orbaz and the other two finally come riding towards me. But why should I waste any more time waiting for them? With incredible strength the dead dragon pushes itself upwards from the earth before they are even close to me. As soon we are airborne, the large wings are holding us up with strong beats.
The dust that we whirled up was enough to make Bloodbane cover his eyes.
We gain height fast, allowing me to gaze upon the remaining army of the Crusade. They are quite many admittedly. I did not expect that they still had this many followers. Their numbers are easily more than twice as many people as we fought in Havenshire and New Avalon.
What a pleasant surprise.
Their heads are turning to me as I continue to rise up high over the city walls. The wyrm seems linked to my thoughts, it follows every instruction I think without hesitation or making any problems.
The crusaders act quickly though. They turn their ballistae towards me and shoot. But the large spears are far too slow to ever hit us, with graceful turns the frostwyrm dodges any of them.
After we are in a stable position again, the creature opens its mouth to attack. An orb the size of my body is forming between its jaw and only seconds later it is send flying at the crusaders. Purest frost magic, their death will be cold...
The orb hits the ballista right in their midst, instantly covering it with a thick layer of ice that is several inches thick. The Crusaders near to it are also instantly frozen into living statues. If they die like this with conserved bodies, they will surely be fine initiates for our army.
Those not in range of the initial blast take out their bows and begin shooting arrows at us. A futile effort at the most...
Several more of these orbs are now flying into the masses.
New Avalon will be becoming a frozen-paradise of death and demise for us to enjoy.
By now the other three have also mounted their frostwyrms and managed to catch up to me. Koltira was the last, nourishing any cliché about elves and dragons I know of...
One mounted wyrm would be enough to bring death to their army as I found out so easily - now four of them are flying on the firmament, looming from overhead just as the High General had said. Some of the Crusaders try to flee back to Tyr's Hand the way they came from marching in, but Thassarian is quick to blocks their way out with his dragon. And the coastline is already guarded off by Koltira.
Orbaz and I will be the ones to do the Scarlet Harvest, the laughter of the Lich King echoing in our minds as more and more are captured in their tombs of ice.
It takes only mere minutes until all of them are trapped under a thick layer of ice-cold death. Soon they will die and then their lingering bodies will become a part of our army, strengthening our ranks.
After we're done, we head back to the middle of Havenshire, to the large field where our undead dragons are able to land, so we can get off the frostwyrm's backs. Three of us summon their deathcharger instantly and almost in unity, only Koltira insists on staying behind a little longer carefully petting the frostwyrm's head as if it would be able to feeling anything at all.
If really every elf is supposed to be like this guy or the bloodprince brothers, I don't ever want to have to meet any others of their kind.
As we return to the camp below the black fortress, Valanar steps forth to greet us, already awaiting our arrival.
"The master is very pleased with such a grand harvest of souls. Twilight approaches and the Scarlet Crusade is no more. I applaud you, it was mainly thanks to you." He claps his hands three or four times leisurely. "The master is eager to present you with a reward worthy of you, measured by the things you have achieved today. Aside to that it should have you prepared for the next battle to come shortly. Highlord Mograine will present the gifts of our master to you personally under the eyes of the Lich King. You should hurry up, all of you. He does not like waiting..." Valanar smiles at me before he bids farewell. A gift he said - again already?
I don't care if the other two would tell Koltira about this as well or not, I just take the gryphon up to the black fortress as I have been told.
Being back in Acherus has something strangely soothing to it, hard to describe. As the three of us make our way over to the teleporter the initiates passing by bow in front of us and back off carefully in fear. Well, I guess I could get used to that.
Getting to the upper level is as fast as always, no pointless stairs wasting time.
Our master is already standing at the balcony again, the Highlord of the Scourge right next to him. But we aren't allowed to approach them yet. He hasn't called for us. Forced to wait Orbaz and Thassarian start some chit-chat about the events of this day, yet I only try to avoid participating in any of it. I'm already too absorbed by looking at the master's weapon. He is currently using it as a support, the tip of the sword resting on the ground, surely even digging its way ever so slightly into the ground of this floating fortress. The skull on its handle and the runes shining from the blade are pointing in my direction. Countless voices, familiar and alien to me are shouting out towards me... itself is screaming at me that I should be the one possessing it. Every fiber of my body wants me to take it, to wield it in combat, to drive it through the hearts of my unlucky enemies.
My thoughts are shattered by a strange sound as Koltira appears out of the teleporter and only seconds later our king calls out for the four of us.
'Come to me my children.'
"I guess we can finally get started..." Orbaz mumbles to himself in anger.
The four of us are finally allowed to take the small staircase up onto the balcony. We stop with a fair distance to the master and kneel down, again just like puppets dancing on a string cord. The Lich King then turns to us, his intense blue eyes gazing down upon us, his minions, and the Highlord Mograine approaches us. Bloodbane kneels to my left and Thassarian to my right, Koltira is the one furthest off to the side and next to the other fool.
Mograine stops only few steps in front of us. He then looks to the back of the hall and with a short gesture he waves to someone or something to come over here too.
Heavy sounding steps behind us make me want to turn my head, but the master wouldn't allow it. A large undead creation eventually walks past us and takes its place next to the high walls. Even though its movement seemed clumsy, it still appears to be incredibly fast. It's an abomination just like the ones that attacked the Scarlet Crusade in the field only minutes ago, but... this one - it is at least three times as large as those.
Turning around it stops by the side of Mograine.
"Patchwerk miss Naxxramas." The creature announces and clutches its fists.
As it then re-opens his large right palm, it displays a variety of different weapons, a total of four swords, two of them one-handed and something that looks like a polearm.
"Today all of you have brought victory to the Scourge with the complete annihilation of the Scarlet Crusade. You four stand out of the crowd of initiates and have proven your worth for our army several times over the course of the Scarlet Apocalypse. You are on the right way of becoming champions of our eternal king." Darion makes a pause before he continues. "The master wants all four of you to be equipped as good as possible for the upcoming battle. It is by far our most important up to this point. Our objective will be the Chapel of Light's Hope to the west. As a preparation for the fight and as a reward for what you have done today, each of you will receive a weapon that was crafted according to your need and refined especially for you and you alone."
Mograine falls for his false reflexes and takes a short breath before he then announces "All of them are already runeblades, but still lacking a proper name. Name them by yourself if you wish to do so. I personally recommend it to you, so that you will be able to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy on day just from them knowing the name of your blade!"
Then he steps over to the abomination called Patchwerk and takes one of the two-handed swords out of its fist and approaches Koltira.
The blade of the sword is divided into two parts. The upper half up to its tip is colored in light green, almost yellow giving it the look of gemstones or maybe even glass. The lower part looks more like metal, iron or Saronite I'd recon. The handle is wrapped in red leather, its end resembling a claw of some sort - all in all a strange, yet aesthetic weapon.
"Stand up, Koltira Deathweaver. At this hour I present to you this weapon. It is a sister-blade to the mighty sword Apolyon, the Soul-Render once wielded by a demon officer of the Burning Crusade. This blade has the power to drink the blood of its enemies as well as to cause terror amongst them only from taking a single glimpse at it. It flows well with the shadows and is known by them as a companion with darkest desires. And still it also remains to be a fearsome weapon for hand-to-hand combat, allowing swift strikes from various directions. Your combat skills excel when you are able to manipulate the shadows and have the power over mighty diseases."
The Highlord hands over the sword.
"Wield it with pride and let your own name color the sword, Deathweaver."
Koltira bows deeply after receiving the mighty weapon and kneels back down, the sword now next to him. Why did that elf get such a ridiculously powerful weapon? That idiot got himself caught by the Crusade, I rescued him and for that he was rewarded with such a sword? What the hell is going on in the mind of my kind?
But Darion Mograine rightfully cares not for my silent complaints as he has already taken the next weapon out of Patchwerk's hand, a pair of one-handed swords. The blades of the weapons are rather thin and surprisingly long. Their tips though are considerably thicker than the rest of the sword, giving them the look of an insect's sting. Near the hand guard the blade is jagged. The handle itself is of a darkened red, almost violet - both swords totally alike.
"Stand up, Thassarian. At this hour I present to you these weapons. These swords are crafted from hardened Saronite. They are sharp, yet still lighter than any weapon you might have wielded until this point. They are designed for swift blows coming from both hand and are mainly made for cutting the enemy into ribbons. Use these weapons efficiently and you will become a fury on the battlefield. Your combat skills excel when using two swords at the same time and thus these blade will serve you well."
Mograine hands over the weapons.
"Wield them with pride and let them decide your fate, rather than poor judgment."
It seems everything they did wrong over the past day was already forgiven... Thassarian lost his last weapon and still... How can they present him with something like this after what had happened?
The Highlord then proceeds to take the other two-handed sword from Patchwerk. This is definitely the biggest weapon the abomination has carried. I somehow expect him to give this to Bloodbane as the sword is easily as tall as I am. The blade of it is so long that it is divided into three parts, connected with circular pieces of metal. The whole thing is of a bleak dark grey, the handle only slightly breaks with this as it has accentuations of a faint violet. There are bonds around the blade connecting it with the handle to absorb hits more efficiently if you have to block or parry something, otherwise your shoulder might just get shattered. The weapon is not especially beautiful, but it surely would be a strong sword to wield once mastered.
"Stand up, Malevolence." Caught off guard I stagger getting up as I ordered. That... is going to be my weapon?
"At this hour I present to you this weapon. This sword was forged from Titanium giving it extreme stability whilst sporting only little more weight than a Saronite weapon. The blade is sharpened and delivers blows like no other. When making good use of its momentum it will allow you to split apart your opponents with ease. It may only look like a simple weapon at first, but it will grow with the one using it. Your style of combat is dominated by strength and pure force, excelling in unparalleled physical dominance."
Mograine hands over the sword to me. I have trouble taking it from him, even when using both my hands to only have it lie down in front of me. After kneeling again my eyes are again fixed to my new weapon. As I let them run along the blade's edges, I hear the voice of my master in my head. It is quieter than usual and I'm hardly able to understand was he is saying.
'From all the death knights, all my children... you and I are different. We both are the ones closest to the first generation.'
I don't know what these words were to mean exactly. But what should I say?
Orbaz is already kneeling down again, I notice. I was so fixed upon my new weapon that I didn't catch anything what was said about him. Only thing I can truly tell is that now this strange black polearm is lying next to his side. The upper part looks like an axe, but all in all it is some sort of cross-over from the two weapons.
All four of us rise to our feet given the unheard command.
"Now that you have received your new weapons and tools, it is time for the final battle in the plaguelands. We will crush the Argent Dawn just as we crushed the Scarlet Crusade! Scourge Commander Thalanor will be awaiting your arrival near the old Browman's sawmill to give you further instructions. Let your weapons taste their blood as it runs freely through the plaguelands! Suffer well, brothers."
Highlord Mograine turns to the master and leaves us standing where we are.
All four of us are now picking up our new weapons. I guess it will be difficult to get used to them this quickly, especially for me but well... I'll manage somehow. I don't intend to die so quickly.
Yet before I turn around to walk away, my eyes fall one last time onto the blade of the Lich King.
Seeing Frostmourne this close makes me want to throw my new blade aside instantly.