Chapter 8:

Every time I've been in the Undercity after the events of the Wrathgate took place and the coup d'état of Varimathras had been foiled only shortly later, I felt a certain sting in my rotten heart.

After taking the ruins of Lordaeron again for the Horde and the encounter with Varian Wrynn in the throne room of Sylvanas renewing the hostilities between Alliance and Horde, the Kor'kron discovered that the words the king of Stormwind had spoken proved to be the truth. They found out about the maltreated bodies of humans as well as orcs which the Royal Apothecary Society had used for their more or less secret experiments and so the warchief started to become wary of the situation. Matters being pressed further and further by the young Hellscream, a leash had to be put around the Forsaken's neck.

Knowing that excluding the Forsaken from the Horde was not a viable option at the moment the Warchief gave order that all the abominations under the control of Sylvanas guarding the city had to be removed immediately. And instead a group of Kor'kron soldiers took their place. The only areas that are still guarded by the huge bulking abo's are those where none of the orcs was willing to go, the sewers for example.

Concerning the Royal Apothecary Society, Thrall found it appropriate to send a group of special overseers especially for them, in any way better than burning the laboratories.

Orcs in Undercity... what a disgrace!

The only citizen who was happy about this development was Kaal Soulreaper, but even he changed his mind rather quickly as they started to intrude his working chambers and confiscated several of his books as well as a few vials of demon blood he kept for himself.

For a greater good they said. How laughable...

Now you meet an orc at every corner of the city, 'Lok'tar Ogar' echoing loudly through the halls disturbing the fond peace and quiet silence the Undercity called its own.

No more of that to be found here...

One can only hope this occupation by the Kor'kron will end soon, even though I'd wonder if this moment would ever come.

Yet on the other hand, personally I didn't notice too much of it if I'm honest. But I had my own confrontations with members of the Kor'kron and the Warsong Offensive in Northrend often enough. Most of them occurred during the time I spent in Agmar's Hammer, the Horde's base of operation in the Dragonblight; a time many weeks before I began to even appreciate Shadow's Edge's growing features, weak as they may have seemed.

Originally I went there out of pure morbid curiosity. I wanted to find out whether the rumors about a certain death knight that had come to my ears were true or not.

I hadn't met either Koltira or Thassarian since the day we had been set free and fought for Acherus together. Both of the fools seemed to have had vanished completely from the face of the earth. But soon after I had arrived in Northrend pursuing my own fate, word was spreading of a skilled death knight at the outpost in Dragonblight. After a bit of further research - forcefully, I have to admit - I found out the person these rumors spoke of was supposed to be a bloodelf. This was the moment when I finally started to wonder if it might actually be puny little 'Deathweaver' I had stumbled upon so accidentally. I just had to find out.

I came to Northrend with the zeppelin from Tirisfal and arrived in the outpost of the Forsaken called Vengeance Landing. From there a wyvern took me over the frozen planes of Dragonblight. This may not have been my very first visit to the Frozen Wastes, but one of the earlier ones so I was not properly informed about the state of things in Agmar's Hammer.

Agmar is the name of the orcish overlord in command there, quite the despot as I found out a bit later as I walked through the camp hearing laments of many orc slobs. Together with his two wolves Lak'tuk and Gar'mak he resides inside the small stronghold of the outpost, reigning over his little kingdom with an iron fist. He views himself as an envoy of Garrosh Hellscream.

'His voice is life and his voice is death.' he preaches to his servants.

Hellscream and he are pretty much alike. They don't care about possible consequences. Both of them would do whatever it takes to reach their goals - straight forward brutes, yet also intelligent and most of all ruthless: makes them rather dangerous if you'd ask me.

Still, it was not he who I got in trouble with that time. I didn't even meet 'Overlord' Agmar on that day. But I ran into an orc named Valnok Windrager instead.

Most of the time on duty he was standing around waiting for orc soldiers to come running up to him who he could then tell what to do. You just have to love orcish lieutenants, generals or whatsoever from the commanding tier. Quiet observers at first, but only for about a split of a second and if you make a sole move, may it be the right one or the wrong one does not matter, they let hell loose upon you. I already had a faint idea what would happen if I asked that self-important green-skin where to find the rumored death knight in this camp so I just wanted to pass by quickly.

"Lok'tar Ogar!" He grunted towards my general direction as I had already gone passed him.

No open eye for my surrounding in that moment I just kept on walking, hoping he had meant another one of his soldiers. "Yeah..., whatever" I mumbled to myself.

"YOU DARE DISGRACE THE BATTLECRY OF THE HORDE?"

Out of nowhere the orc started shouting at me. How unfortunate that he had heard just that out of all things to catch. To my surprise he turned calm again almost instantly and started talking away about the meaning of that battle cry.

"Victory or death - it is these words that bind to the Horde. They are the most sacred and fundamental of truths for any warrior of the Ho..."

"Aw, come on..." I called out interrupting him. His looks darkened and I already knew that I had gotten into if he had to finish his monologue like this. I wasn't too keen on having him going all out, maybe even frenzy but he was just calling for it. His whole face provoked me, taunted me into pushing my luck. He only snarled at me and kept on going.

"...for any warrior of the HORDE!" You could see the rage in his eyes though.

"Maybe that is where the problem lies..." I spoke quietly to myself but loud enough to be heard, sadly this time he seemed to have overheard it.

"I give my flesh and blood freely to the Warchief! I am the instrument and the weapon of my Warchief!" He almost started shouting at me. I shrugged it off and responded with a mildly bored look.

"That's great..., but I don't want to give my life for YOUR warchief..." I said exactly what I thought. Admittedly not the wisest thing to do while facing a raging orc but he seemed to be one of the calmer ones after all.

By that moment I had thrown all cautiousness overboard and replaced it with arrogance. I wanted to know exactly how far I could push him, but he had already snapped on the inside. His eyes clearly showed that he already knew exactly how he wanted to rip me apart bit by bit.

"Try it." I said loudly taunting him whilst knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"You stinking lump of rotten flesh!" Was the only answer he had for me as he clenched his fists.

Just one more word and I'd have him where I wanted.

"Enough!" A calm, yet incredibly eerie voice arose behind me. Something was familiar about it. "You're pushing it too far, Malevolence..."

Against all common knowledge I turned my head around upon hearing my name to see where it came from. In the same moment the orc hit me in the face with his large green fist as he took advantage of my stupidity. One moment of carelessness and that bastard struck. His blow forced me to make a step to the side into the snow where could do nothing to regain my balance and was ultimately dragged to the ground by the weight of Armageddon on my back.

As I slowly got up again the orc spat next to me onto the ground, barely missing me. "Don't you ever dare to insult the Warchief again!" He grunted as he turned away, clearly not yet satisfied with how the situation had panned out. He would have liked to do so many things to me...

That coward! He attacked me in the only moment I wasn't aware of it and then left. Where was their famous warrior's pride?

Disappointed and angry I turned my gaze away from the orc who was leaving the scene anyway. The fire next to the forge in the middle of the outpost blazing high into the air as I found out who was the one that had distracted me.

I wouldn't have recognized him if it hadn't been for the weapon he was carrying. The outlining of his face had gotten harder, nothing left of his former self and even his voice had changed a bit. The ice-blue eyes were gazing at me, burning their way to the back of my skull.

The world we live in isn't merciful with the weak - he would be the prime example for that.

"Koltira Deathweaver" I said as I spotted the sword in his hand. "You've changed."

He gazed at me for a moment.

"And you haven't..." The tension resting between us indescribable; "Byfrost is happy to see Armageddon again. But I can't say the same thing about you." His runeblade was a beautiful weapon, not a single scratch visible on the light green surface of its upper half, still talking about it as a person seemed rather awkward if you'd ask me.

"What brings you here?" He didn't waste any time with his main question, leaving me no time to think about how to respond. Admitting it openly was not an option, but it wouldn't make any difference either, for I was sure he already knew the 'why'. He really had changed a lot since I had left him standing in front of the gates of Orgrimmar.

The seconds passed without me answering his question or him posing a new one.

"I see..." He announced after a while. "Is there anything else you want to talk to me about? If not, I, as an officer of the Warsong Offence, have more important things to attend to than your little brawls with my lieutenants..."

Officer of the Warsong Offence..? He had to be kidding me. It's hard to believe that this was the same person as the Koltira I had known not that long ago.

I tried to keep my bewilderment hidden away but still kept on looking at him for a few seconds without saying anything at all. Eventually he turned around ready to leave, just as I had done with him. But he wasn't like me, not even now. And so as he had already had a head start on his leave he turned round again.

"Oh... and just so I don't forget to tell you personally: You deserved that hit." A grim smile followed his poor taunt as it covered his lips. The whole time I had been mocking him for his failures, for his weaknesses. By then he tried to turn it around. By then he was the one mocking me.

"And yes, I have grown stronger since that day you had parted and left me standing there alone in front of Orgrimmar. As I walked through the streets alone the grunts spat at me, the peasants threw their rotten food after me. They even prepared to hang me directly in the center of the Valley of Strength." He came a few steps closer again, clutching his fist. "The only thing that saved me from the gallows that day was the protecting hand of the Warchief! You should respect him, you fool. He is also the sole reason why you were spared and left in the service of your wretched queen Sylvanas!"

I couldn't have disagreed more with the words he spoke.

I in the debt of the orcish Warchief..? What a laughable claim.

"Northrend formed you." I spoke out loudly.

"You have no idea!" He rushed towards me the sword quickly drawn and raised over his head. The strike was swift, but not too strong. I managed to block it although it proved difficult due to the sheer speed of his weapon.

"STOP LOOKING DOWN ON ME!" He yelled at me from over the clashing blades with a loud and angry voice, revealing for a split of a second only the glimpse of hatred he had for me in his eyes. And he liked it. He cherished it.

As the weapons had met each other again, a small spark flew through the air - another notch in my blade.

"Soon you will be the weak one! Watch out, that day won't be far..." He said with a dark laugh as lowered his weapon to leave me. "You have it coming for you! And if none of the Scourge will have the pity to do it, I'll take care of you myself sooner or later!" He announced from the distance as he gave me a cold last look from over his shoulder.

I couldn't stop wondering. This wasn't the Koltira I had rescued from the Scarlet Crusade anymore. He had become strong and daring. Enough to even get me excited. He probably had abandoned every weak and soft spot he had had before.

His old self probably froze to death in these wastes of ice and snow. His soul had been eroded by the desire for revenge and the urge for appreciation amongst the members of the Horde. Thassarian probably should have changed in a similar way too.

We all had left parts of ourselves behind for the pursuit of strength. Now his life was actually worth something for a change.

He had finally become a true death knight.

But still, no matter what he said or planed on doing to me - he would always be the weaker one. And I would always keep looking down on him, no matter what.

Because he would still have to learn one important thing:

You cannot defeat someone who had already lost everything.