Chapter Three

Nerissina

I travelled by a portal that delivered me to the gates of Stormwind. Part of my penance was to walk alone through the streets to the keep where the king lived. In my dark armour and with the unholy Scourge light in my eyes there was no hiding what I was. The people hated death knights for what we had done and they made sure I knew it. I was reviled, spat at, bombarded with refuse, even threatened with execution as I walked. In silence I took it as a just punishment and made no response. For what I had done I deserved all that and more.

At the gates to the keep I showed the letter that I bore from Mograine to the king and I was admitted. In the audience chamber I handed over the letter and knelt in silence before the king to await his judgement. After due consideration he welcomed me and bade me join his army. Still kneeling I swore an oath of loyalty to him. Then, dismissed, I reported to the barracks to be given orders. I won't say that life was easy in Stormwind. As both worgen and death knight I was doubly mistrusted but at least I had a place and a new purpose to my life. The army was a good life for me. I would always suffer that terrible burning hunger the Scourge had inflicted on me but at least in fighting them I had a way to control it.

Gillaen was among those who joined me and we served together. Sometimes we talked of the past; of our families and our former lives. We knew we could never go back to them, but sometimes it helped make us feel a little more normal. Gillaen knew now that I had never stopped loving Arrentai but he understood the reason for my actions.

Over the next weeks we spent time clearing out more Scourge in the Plaguelands. It was a never-ending task and good training to knock our new units into shape. When our commanders decided we were ready we were sent to Outland to serve. The shattered remains of a harsh world; it was a hard place to be. We travelled there through the Dark Portal from the Blasted Lands arriving in a place of barren red earth and rock populated by orcs and corrupted beasts and demons. The Hellfire Peninsula was well named. Further on were regions of marshes, forests and wide rolling plains. We saw mountain ranges of tall spires of rock and vast areas corrupted by fel energies. All in all it was a terrible place to be. The only place of respite was the capital city, Shattrath; but even there we couldn't avoid our enemies. It had been declared a sanctuary open to both Alliance and Horde; a place where we were not allowed to fight but had to walk peacefully side by side. There were many strange new creatures there; some we had to fight, others who needed our help. It had once been the home of the draenei, and some of those creatures had been part of their race in the past. I hated it there but all the time I fought I knew I was growing stronger and closer to the time when I would be able to go to Northrend and fight against the Lich King, and take my revenge against him. Even if I were not the one who struck the fatal blow; and I knew that was most unlikely; I wanted to be there to see it happen. I wanted to see his dead body at my feet and know that he would never again have power over us.

At last that day came. We were recalled from Outland, going back through the Dark Portal to the Blasted Lands, a place that was scarcely less bleak than the one we had left. We marched to Stormwind and took ship to Northrend. The voyage was rough, stormy and increasingly cold as we went further north. But none of us complained; mostly death knights, we were anticipating our revenge with an unholy delight.

When we finally landed we were given a few days to acclimatise ourselves before being assigned to our duties. There was a lot of Scourge activity around Icecrown and in Dragonblight, as well as trouble from the blue Dragonflight. The platoon that I was in; commanded by Gillaen; was sent to Dragonblight. Our first duty was to help a group of Earthen Ring members at Star's Rest to deal with the aftermath of the blue dragonflight's messing with the leylines and releasing magic that needed to be kept contained. Then we were sent to Mo'aki harbour to help the Tuskarr deal with their problems. After that we were sent on to Wyrmrest temple.

You would think that the dragons, immortal, infinitely more powerful than us, would be able to deal with their own problems. But, no; they had asked for help from both Horde and Alliance armies. We did all that we were asked and more and willingly. After all, we had been told that our redemption lay in service to others. But at the same time we wanted only to get to Icecrown, to clear it of the Scourge and all its abominations, and to fight the Lich King.

Then at last the chance came. When the dragons had finished with us we were sent to Wintergarde Keep to the eastern side of Dragonblight. There was plenty to keep us busy there. The Scourge had a floating citadel that they called Naxxramas. They used it as a base to send their foul armies out into the surrounding area and several of our platoons were engaged in getting the region back under our control. We often came across Horde platoons similarly tasked; Gillaen would not fight them; time enough he said after the Scourge was dealt with.

Gradually we gained a semblance of control; although not beaten they were at least contained in one area. When we had done all we could Commander Wyrmbane received orders to send us to Fordragon Hold to the west. When we arrived we found a huge army gathering in the area between the hold and the Wrathgate, one of the entrances to Icecrown Citadel. Bolvar Fordragon, a careful commander, ordered that a handful of platoons, ours included, be held back in reserve to protect the hold. We watched from the heights as the battle against the Scourge forces began and went on; long, savage and bloody. At length Commander Fordragon and the Horde leader, Dranosh Saurfang fought their way side by side to the gate and challenged the Lich King to come out and face them. He appeared, and fought; Saurfang was struck down and we watched the Lich King raise him as a death knight.

Beside me I heard Gillaen give a gasp of horror.

"No more," he muttered. "You will have no more, Arthas. This has to end."

Before the battle could continue large numbers of undead appeared on the heights above the armies. To our horror they began throwing down casks of some vile green concoction that vaporised and engulfed everyone there. The Lich King and his warriors retreated into the citadel; there was no escape for anyone else.

There was nothing we could do but watch helplessly as the plague of undeath began to claim everyone, Alliance and Horde alike. Gillaen, left in command of the garrison, would not allow anyone to leave the hold. There was nothing we could do; we would only share their fate. Those poor unfortunates would be raised by the undead alchemy to become part of their army.

"Look!" someone called out.

We turned to look as a flight of red dragons flew over us, swooping down into the valley, breathing bright flames. Within minutes everything was gone, seared to ash, the whole valley cleansed. I turned away, feeling tears run freely down my cheeks. Gillaen reached out and drew me to him.

"It was for the best, Neri," he said gently. "They were dead as soon as that vapour touched them."

We stayed there at Fordragon Hold for the next weeks while a new garrison, new officers, a new commander were found. Gillaen was offered the position but he declined. He was a fighter, not an administrator, and he knew that he would soon tire of such a position. And so we moved on into the region of Icecrown, helping to establish the outpost of the Argent Vanguard.

While we were there we began to hear talk of proposed raids on Icecrown Citadel itself. A full scale assault by the combined armies of the Alliance and Horde had failed; now people were talking about small raiding groups going in and destroying the Scourge from within. Gillaen and I decided that this was probably our best chance at getting an attempt on the Lich King so we took leave that was owing to us and headed for the citadel. The Ashen Verdict had gained a foothold at one of the entrances near its base, and were holding it open to allow adventurers in. We would go there, gather a group of like minded individuals and take our own chance in the citadel.

And so we set off; it wasn't so far from our base at the Argent Vanguard and we reached the Citadel quickly and easily, flying in on our winged steeds. Gillaen, always the experienced commander, took a good look at the adventurers who were hanging around waiting to find a group to join and made his choice, inviting them to join us.

Gillaen

I looked around at the disparate group of adventurers gathered at the entrance to Icecrown Citadel. They had been eager enough to join in a group with Nerissina and me but none of them seemed too keen on being the first one to enter.

Some I knew; Nerissina of course; she had fought side by side with me, as human and worgen, since our days in the Gilnean army, then as warriors of the Scourge and now as part of the Alliance forces. And the tauren death knight, I knew her. She'd come later to the Scourge than Nerissina and I; I'd watched her struggle against their control, desperate to keep her identity. When Razuvious had wanted her destroyed as usually happened with such strong minded individuals I'd spoken up on her behalf; I'd instinctively recognised her potential, and time and again had been proved right. Once she'd learned to submit to the Lich King's will she'd been a fearsome warrior in his army, even more ruthless than me.

Perditta became aware of my scrutiny and looked at me, nodding in acknowledgement. She said nothing; she seldom spoke; she let her actions speak for her.

The next two were an odd pair. The first was a dwarf paladin, short, solidly built, ruddy faced, with a long black beard and wild hair. He was deep in conversation with his companion, a tall white haired Kaldorei hunter. Her pet, a striped sabre toothed cat, lay at her feet, yawning lazily, watching over a pair of sleepy cubs.

Keeping their distance, both from each other and the rest of the group, were two warlocks. The orc, Tarothar, accompanied by a large blue voidwalker, was still, calmly awaiting the order to move. The other was a gnome; restlessly fidgeting, laughing dementedly to himself as his imp pranced about at his feet. I knew of him by repute. Kiriedh Steelbolt wasn't quite right in the head; he'd lost his wife in the fall of Gnomeregan, and he'd never really recovered from his experiences there; but he was reputed to be an awesome spellcaster if people could cope with his eccentricities.

The last member of the party was a troll druid. No one knew anything about him, not even his name. He'd just strolled up and joined us without a word. Having a druid for a brother I knew how useful they could be so I accepted him without question.

It was obvious I was going to be leading the group. It was a role I was used to, and nobody challenged me for the privilege. After my appraisal I called them all together to allocate roles to each. Perditta and I were the best armoured and the most solidly built; we would lead the attacks, keeping the attention of our targets to allow the damage dealers to work. The paladin was a healer, he'd said, but I didn't know him, didn't know how good he was. I hoped it would be enough.

I led them into the entrance passage with Perditta close behind me. As we neared the instance that would give us admittance to the area held by the Ashen Verdict two figures emerged from the shadows. The first, his huge bulk revealing him as tauren, spoke.

"Could you use some help, friends?"

Before I had a chance to reply Perditta spoke up; and I could hear the pleasure in her voice.

"Thaddeus Swiftstorm, you are most welcome, brother. You'll come as healer, of course?"

He bowed his great shaggy head in assent as the dwarf muttered indignantly.

"So I'm not good enough then."

"From what I've heard," Thaddeus said, "both of us will be most necessary."

I glanced round to see Aralen glare at him, unconvinced, but he said no more.

Thaddeus' companion stepped forward and I turned my attention to him. Tall and slender, he wore the unmistakable dark armour and hood of a death knight.

"I am Tyriyan Sunblade of the Sin'dorei. Like you I wish vengeance on the Lich King. My sword is yours if you will accept it."

I smiled briefly; these two would complete my team well.

"Join us, then, and we will make the Lich King pay dearly for his crimes."

They fell in with the others behind me and I strode forward leading them through the instance. Once they were all through I turned to them and said,

"Be sure that your gear is well repaired and you have all the potions and food you need. I don't know how long this will take but we're not leaving until Arthas Menethil lies dead at our feet... or we lie dead at his."

Maybe that was a bit melodramatic but I wanted to impress on them how seriously I was taking this.

One or two of them purchased extra supplies from the quartermaster there, but it was quickly done.

We moved on into the citadel in a tight group; Perditta and I leading, then the damage dealers and lastly the healers. The troll shapeshifted into bear form, padding along beside the Kaldorei's cat, and he fought that way, savage and unstoppable.

We lost track of the hours as we moved from room to room, hall to hall, mercilessly putting to the sword all the Scourge warriors and abominations, destroying every foul material or equipment that we found. Occasionally I allowed time to rest and eat; but never for long. Driven by the determination, the compulsion to cleanse the citadel of every vile unclean thing it held I pushed my companions on relentlessly.

We fought against frostbrood dragons; even they could not stand against our determination; and enslaved death knights of every race. One of those was the orc leader we'd seen fall at the Wrathgate. I'd sworn then that the Lich King would have no more for his army. I kept my word; the orc died by my sword, released from his servitude.

At last we came to the foot of the Spire. I paused and looked up at the steep winding path we must take, eager to be on my way. I was barely aware of the grumbling behind me as Nerissina came to my side. I looked at her and smiled with delight.

"Not much longer," I said. "We're nearly there."

"Gillaen, we must take time to rest. They're exhausted. Look at them. They'll never be able to fight the Lich King like that."

I turned to gaze at our companions and realised that she was right. I had been using an ability that all death knights shared, draining life energy from my victims as I fought them; and I felt strong, empowered, ready for anything. I guessed Nerissina and the other two death knights had done the same. The others did not have that choice and they were all, even the mighty tauren, flagging. I couldn't leave them and we couldn't go on as we were. I made the only decision I could.

"Very well. It must be close to nightfall. We'll rest here; eat, get what sleep you can. I'll keep watch."

With obvious relief they found a secure spot and settled themselves. Food and drink was shared out and the two healers made sure that any injuries were taken care of. Thaddeus had been right; they had both been needed and had been kept busy the whole day casting endless healing spells, doling out potions and applying bandages. And thanks to them the whole party had made it this far.

I hoped they'd be able to cope with what was to come. I'd seen the Lich King in action, I knew what he was capable of, knew that so many before us had tried and failed. I, and the other death knights, wanted revenge on the Lich King for all he had done to us and to that end I was prepared to die. But I was the leader of this group; I had accepted responsibility for them, to keep as many of them alive as possible. There would be casualties, it was inevitable; but if so Arthas Menethil would not have them for his undead army. I would make sure of that.

Chewing on a piece of bread I leant back against the icy wall and looked around. Most of my companions were settling down to sleep now. Not so the Kaldorei; she sat sorting through her arrows, cleaning, repairing, repointing them. Throughout the day she had retrieved them from the dead bodies as we progressed. One or two of the others had looked at her actions with distaste, but I understood her reasoning. The creatures we were likely to find at the pinnacle of the spire were such that we would need many arrows and spells to bring them down. Maelinastra knew she would need every arrow she could lay her hands on and she made sure she was prepared. At last though she too slept.

Perditta, Tyriyan and I were the only ones left awake. Nerissina, never as strong as me although she'd argue otherwise, was sleeping close by me. Occasionally I let my gaze fall upon her; my thoughts were already there, thinking on what might have been. I'd loved her almost from the first, but she'd never known, and had chosen my brother instead. So I'd kept my feelings hidden from them both. Then she'd become worgen and broken with Arrentai, relying on me for support, but only as a brother. Now, as when we'd served the Scourge, we fought side by side, as fellow soldiers and friends. I wanted it to be more, desperately so, but I knew it could never be. Despite her words I was sure she still loved Arrentai and I would never make her choose between us.

Lost in my introspection I sat out the long night's watch in silence. I didn't speak to either Perditta or Tyriyan. The bond we shared as Knights of the Ebon Blade was not enough to outweigh the factional ties that separated us. Occasionally I heard distant sounds of other groups, other battles, but we remained undisturbed.

At last the sleepers began to stir; eating a quick but sustaining breakfast for who knew when we'd next have a chance to eat. As we were making our final checks and preparations other adventurers began to drift into the room. The remains of other groups, they wanted to continue but needed some confident leadership. Well, I was what was available on that front and we could use the extra help so I invited them to join us, more than doubling the size of our party.

Among the newcomers was a pair of young orcs, a warrior and a shaman to judge by their appearance. They looked scared out of their wits. I wandered over to them as they hovered in the doorway.

"Hello, boys," I said. "Where's your group?"

For moments they stared at me terrified then one of them, the shaman, stammered in poor common, "We got lost."

I'll say they did. They didn't look old enough to have left their mothers, never mind going into a battle like this. But I couldn't leave them alone so I told them to join us. Quietly I spoke to the orc warlock.

"See if you can keep them out of harm's way and we'll send them back to their mothers after this is over."

He nodded and took the boys to one side, talking quietly with them, as I went to check that everyone was prepared