Chapter 13:
Struck down by the light Mograine used the last amount of energy he could control to summon a portal back into the dark halls of the fortress of Acherus. It appeared similar to the one the Lich King had used to appear in front of Tirion Fordring, but the destination differed. I know as much, though nothing beyond that.
He briefly explained that only death knights would be able to step through it without taking any harm.
And thus Darion, Koltira, Thassarian and I are the first to step through it.
There is only a couple of ghouls and val'kyrs on the lower floor remaining, all in all no match for us even in our weakened state. Just as we are entering the lower circle the young Mograine takes two swords from a near weapon rack.
"The haze has been lifted my brothers... I can see as clearly now as the day that I plunged the Ashbringer into my own heart to free my father's cursed soul: my last memory as a free man." His voice is filled with sorrow for a moment. It is the first time I've ever noticed a feeling in this man's voice.
"We must take back Acherus from the Scourge if our order is to survive in this new world... The first battle of the Knights of the Ebon Blade in underway! Death to the Scourge!"
Thassarian, Koltira and I step onto the teleporter to the upper area.
The whole upper level is infested with abominations the large one that carried our weapons is standing in the middle of them all.
"Patchwerk miss Naxxramas. Maybe kills quickly so Patchwerk go home?" It blabbers out as it spots us.
A few more initiate death knights appear out of the teleporter reinforcing our numbers, setting the odds into our favor. I look at Koltira and Thassarian for a short moment expecting that any of the two might say something or give the signal to attack. After nothing has happened for a while I shrug and charge at the abomination nearest to us. I forgot how both of them were to be lead.
Even this way it takes the two a while to understand what I am doing. But they, as well as the other death knight initiates, follow me into the fray with only little delay.
The abominations don't get killed easily. It takes a lot of blows to send even only one of them to rest. And for other not even that is enough. They keep on fighting if you sever their heads, arms and legs... it simply does not matter. But the worst about fighting them is the awful stench they create. Their guts are hanging out and leaving a trail of ooze behind them with every movement they make, surpassing even rotten sense of smell one like us should have by now.
We clean up roughly a third of the room without too many difficulties. The giant abomination named Patchwerk in the middle is still paying no attention to us. We have to kill him otherwise we won't be able to take Acherus as ours. And just as Armageddon cuts down through another smaller abomination, a group of initiates attack Patchwerk. Those overzealous fools!
"Patchwerk play!" The fist of the abo, easily as tall as a tauren, rushes towards the ground, faster than you would ever expect from a creature this large, especially when you know how slow his little counterparts are. A human death knight is too slow to dodge the attack and disappears underneath the lump of dead flesh that is supposed to be the hand of Patchwerk. The helmet of the death knight is rolling to the feet of the other initiates as the only thing that remained. But the true horror is displayed the moment Patchwerk lifts his fist again. A few bones and shreds of broken armor are skewered into his gigantic fingers, the rest of the body reduced to a bloody mass mixed up of bones and Saronite.
The initiates now realizing how much of a dumb idea to charge at that abo was, but it is too late for them. They try to run, but the creature just starts chasing them with its heavy steps. He can easily keep up with them by casually walking.
"Cut the seams at his legs!" I yell over to them, wondering if they will ever react to the hint I just gave them. Patchwerk is after all only a ... well, patchwork. As I see no reaction from the initiates whatsoever I shout to Koltira that he should come with me. The elf hesitates, but follows me eventually whilst the giant abomination is still chasing after the three other initiates.
"The seams at his legs..! Cut them Deathweaver! Let's bring this rag rug down..."
I try to get to the left leg while Koltira tries his best to keep up with the creature at all. Using Armageddon while running is damn difficult... As my sword finally hits the legs of the giant and cuts halfway through it, I am swept away by a backwards attached arm of the abo, sending me flying back towards Thassarian.
Koltira on the other hand managed to do what I told him for a change. The giant leg came off without trouble letting Patchwerk tumble and fall over onto its open stomach.
Quickly I get back to my feet knowing fully well that we still have to sever the other leg as well as the three arms if want this thing anywhere to helpless.
I hurry to get back to my sword, which is still stuck inside the stump of the abo. Though cutting off the other leg shouldn't be too difficult now. Yet getting rid of the arms will still be a problem. And then it happens another death knight initiate comes too close to the abo again.
"Patchwerk angry!" The creature cries with unknown ferocity and grabs the nightelf. His bones are snapping loudly underneath the armor as Patchwerk keeps on squeezing the elf before he throws him head-first against the nearest wall as he gets sick of this poorly designed toy.
It's astonishing how much blood still courses through the veins of those half-undead death knights, there is hardly any of it left inside of me.
With utmost care I approach from the large bulk from the left side. Again already it proves great that Armageddon's blade has such a long reach. I can cut the seams of the abo's shoulder without endangering me too much. Still, I have to be quick when doing it.
With a clean strike the left arm of Patchwerk now lies motionless next to the monster, but I was almost hit by the strange small arm on his shoulder in return.
Incredible how bothersome these creatures can get to be...
Throwing most of the care into the wind I get on its back to detach the right arm, but just as I'm on the creature starts trying to roll around and bury me underneath its bloated body.
Tumbling from left to right wouldn't stop though. After another swift strike later the abomination is blabbering strange things and the second arm lies to its right side. The immediate danger dealt with I jump off its back and decide that the initiates can take care of the rest on their own.
"No more... play?" Are the last words I hear from Patchwerk after someone has cut off the creature's head.
The last few smaller abominations roaming the room should be no problem for any of the initiates, although... by now I should probably call them knights of the Ebon Blade.
Koltira and Thassarian are already heading to the teleporter when my eyes meet something most interesting. It's a grey two-handed axe that is leaning against the wall next to the black anvils of Acherus.
The weapon appears to be rather simple: one side of its head has a normal round blade, typical for an axe and on the other side there is a smaller one which has a pointy tip so it can also be used as a pike in case of need.
A large blue gemstone is inserted into the head of the axe where it connects with the handle.
Except for the gem it looks like a plain weapon, yet as I pick it up I instantly feel how good it lies in my hand. The light material, the overall handling is incredible but something is missing. It feels ... so empty.
I wonder who this weapon was meant for as I turn in my hands and try a swing or two.
Yet as no one had claimed it so far I might as well take it with me I decide.
Only a few moments later I find Koltira and Thassarian how they are already talking to Mograine about the progress on the upper floor.
"Very well indeed! The rest of the Scourge shall be dealt with soon and the rebuilding process will begin anew." Mograine looks at us three.
"I have but one last task I have to ask of you." He continues. "You are now and forever will be, Knights of the Ebon Blade, but know this: you all were once heroes of the Horde and the Alliance. This order must establish allies for itself if it is to survive in dire times like these. You must represent the Knights of the Ebon Blade in Orgrimmar and Stormwind! I will do my best to open two portals for you so that you can travel there quickly!"
Our former Highlord then for a moment and two portals appear behind us on the rim of the balcony we all once stood upon.
"The left one will lead to Durotar, directly to the front of the city gates of Orgrimmar. The right one will do the same for Stormwind. It is all up to you." His voice sounds almost pleading.
Thassarian and Koltira bow and step through the portals without hesitation like good little minions, but I remain for a moment longer.
"I found this weapon on the up..." I want to ask, but Mograine interrupts me before I can finish the question.
"It is made of titanium-infused Saronitesteel – a weapon beyond anything this world has seen up to this present day. One could argue that it is the same as titansteel but with the advantages only the purest Saronite carries. Not only is it hard and resistant like titanium, but also rather light and easy to shape while heated up in the right forge. It also has a strong affinity for magic. It's a test-subject to be honest if you want to call it that way, not even a runeblade yet." Mograine looks off to side for a moment, thinking about something before he turns back to me. "We figured that this material is closest to the metal Frostmourne is made of, yet it still is not the same. Not by far the same."
I think for a moment as I want to respond but instead drop the words that were forming in the back of my head.
Darion seems pleased by my silence and carries on to say something I would have expected. "Keep it, the once nameless child. Neither I nor the Ebon Blade will mind, you have done a great deal to recover Acherus for us, Malevolence."
He talks as if he already knows that I don't really want to be a member of their order. Not denying him in his choice of words I indeed have plans of my own already.
Nevertheless I thank him for his gratitude and also back off to the portal leading to Orgrimmar.
The warm, dusty wind of Durotar grazes my face as I leave the swirling pool of shadows behind me, not clearly feeling it but knowing it is there. Yet the first thing I have to see on the other end of this loophole in space and time are two ice-blue elven eyes of Koltira who had decided it'd be a good idea waiting for me. He says that we now can go see Thrall together.
But I just turn him down. It's the right thing to do...
"Don't start to get wrong expectations little elf. I don't want to get dragged into this any further. I don't want to be a part of it wherever it might go. You head to Thrall and I'll go my own way." I answer him with a cold voice.
Koltira stares at me in bewilderment as I just summon my deathcharger right next to him and leave towards the tower where the goblin zeppelins stop.
The little bag at my waist thrums with every step of my steed.
'Lok'tar ogar' will never be my battle cry.