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Chapter 3: Andorhal
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Arthas' group was slowly making headway towards Andorhal, where they had hoped to get some answers to this 'plague'. But the way there was long - the necromancer had left several small groups of undead to slow them down. Making their journey take twice as long, with night almost upon them and almost a quarter more to go, before they reached Andorhal.
"I say we make camp, we are no good at night, M'Lord," said Captain Falric to Arthas, as they trecked on foot. "The men are tired as well."
"Captain I..." tried Arthas to say, until he saw the tired faces of his men, Falric, Marwyn, Jaina and even Sylvanas showing minor signs of fatigue. "...very well. Well camp nearby, so we can move quickly."
"Men! We're taking a breather, set up the tents," ordered Falric, which brought minor relief to them of not having to treck at night. As they got to work: tents, fire and firepit. "Sergeant Marwyn you handle this, while I go find firewood."
"Yes, Captain," replied his second-in-command.
Falric soon started to collect some branches, twigs and logs - while the rest helped set camp and dig a firepit.
"Careful...log infront of your foot..." said Sylvanas, joining Falric in collecting firewood.
"Oh...thank you!" replied Falric, as he stepped over the log, hidden by the night. "You see anything else?"
"Not much - just trees and trees, I can see somewhat in the darkness, but I'm not a night animal. Somewhat better than you, yet I'm still taking it slowly in the dark," spoke Sylvanas.
"How long have you known Prince Arthas?" asked Falric.
"I haven't, just bumped into him years ago," replied Sylvanas.
"Oh, pardon my mistake. Just that you two seemed like old friends," he said.
"A few words we had exchanged, nothing much," she replied. "What about the mage? They seem close."
"That's Jaina Proudmoore, daughter of Admiral Proudmoore from Kul'Tiras," answered Falric. "You might think they're close, but they aren't. I had asked M'Lord if they were close when Miss Proudmoore joined us, but he simply answered no, told me they were close once and wanted me to not ask that question ever again. It'd seemed that the young Proudmoore and Prince had some history behind them, yet not anymore."
"Okay..." replied Sylvanas, as they finished their collecting and returned to camp, where Jaina started a fire with her magic.
However, nobody stayed up for long - Jaina going to sleep first, since she was a mage; the men following suit, except for Marwyn who was to take the first watch-duty and would be rotated during the night by them. Sylvanas herself was busy checking on her bow, sitting cross-legged on a log, near the fire.
"You need anything?" asked Arthas, sitting near the fire.
"No..." replied Sylvanas.
"You don't need a sleeping bag? I got an extra blanket in my tent," spoke Arthas.
"...oh...no need," replied Sylvanas, uncrossing her legs. "My hood is for more than appearance. I'm good."
Arthas seemed different, then when they had met. He wore finely made decorated steel armor, that covered his entire body, minus a helmet - giving him the appearance of royalty, yet also of a paladin. A blue cape complimented the blue holy glyphs on his armor and he wielded a mighty maul with ease, that would give her pause. Yet for everything Sylvanas could still see he was young and inexperienced to war.
"What of this plague? How much do you know?" asked Sylvanas, trying to act modestly.
"Well...not much. As much as I know, this seemed to be affecting small villages, Brill is this first larger town of this scale," replied Arthas, thinking over. "Do you anything about these...undead?"
"Not much...undead had attacked my homeland during the Second War, yet they were mostly mindless minions raised by orc warlocks," said Sylvanas. "These seem more...dangerous."
"Do you think orcs are behind this?" asked Arthas.
"I don't think so. Orcs couldn't be subtle enough for an infection of this scale or create something this deadly. Along the fact, that the man in robes seemed to be human, his lackeys included."
"Meaning?" he asked.
"There is someone else leading them..." said Sylvanas. "...or they're getting help from someone."
"Who has that kind of power?" asked Arthas.
"Us...Dalaran...yet we elves don't practice it...not even in the Second War did we want to use, that kind of magic..." spoke Sylvanas. "As for Dalaran, they are the epidome of rules and restrictions...they wouldn't even consider dwelving into dark magic, necromancery included. Former wizards...however are a different story..."
"Let's hope Andorhal gives us some answers," said Arthas, as he stood up and headed for his tent. "Good night, Ranger-General Sylvanas."
"Good night, Prince Arthas," replied Sylvanas, as she was left alone to ponder near the fire. How bad would this plague turn out to be.
XXX
Early the next morning, Sylvanas was awakened by the sound of birds chirping up in the trees. It was almost easy to forget that they were after a madman, who was seemingly spreading a dangerous and deadly plague.
The second thing Sylvanas noticed that she was covered by a fur blanket, despite her objections of not needing one.
"Morning ma'am!" said Captain Falric, as he poked the embers of the fire, being the one on watch-duty in the morning.
"I said I didn't need anything," spoke Sylvanas, as she removed the fur blanket.
"The prince had asked us to cover you up, when you had fallen asleep. He cares for everybodies well-being in the group. Yours included," replied Falric.
"Well...thank you..." mumbled Sylvanas, reigning in her elven pride. "Seems like he has a good heart."
"He does, this is harder for him than for most of us," replied Falric. "He hates seeing his people die."
"Understood..." said Sylvanas, as most of their group started to wake up.
After half an hour of eating and packing, their group started their journey towards Andorhal. Luckily the roads were free from any undead activity, so they made faster progress than they did yesterday.
Arriving on the outskirts of Andorhal around midday, where they already spotted trouble near an abandoned gold mine.
"Look, it's the cultists who were with the necromancer! What are they doing to that mine?" asked Jaina, as she eyed the cultists from afar, who started to chant something near the gold mine.
"Let's not wait to find out! Attack!" yelled Arthas, as they charged forward. Arthas and Sylvanas managing to kill three cultists, before the rest escaped.
"Damn these intruders! They must not interfere with the master's plan!" muttered one of the cultists as they escaped over the hill, their warning echoing to the humans.
"Let's build a base camp here. With those cultists creeping around, I'd rather not head in there without backup," said Arthas, as he eyed their location. It'd would do.
"I couldn't agree more," replied Jaina in approval.
XXX
They spend nearly two hours setting up a base camp and gathering reinforcements from nearby villages, before Arthas gave them the orders to move ahead on Andorhal itself.
"See anything Sylvanas?" asked Arthas.
"Not looking good...I'm already seeing flames and undead in the city..." replied Sylvanas, as she eyed the city from up a tree.
"We need to move fast..." said Arthas, as Sylvanas slided down the tree. "Move out!"
Arthas and his group slowly made their way to Andorhal and were greeted by an unpleasant sight: burning buildings, roaming undead and dead villagers lying on the ground, with ghouls eating their remains. With the same black robed man, standing at the centre of the town.
"Hello again, children. I am Kel'Thuzad, and I've come to deliver a warning. Leave well enough alone. Your curiosity will be the death of you," taunted Kel'Thuzad, as a horde of ghouls and undead grouped near his position.
"Are you responsible for this plague, necromancer? Is this cult your doing?" asked Arthas angrily at the pain and destruction he had caused.
"Yes, I ordered the Cult of the Damned to distribute the plagued grain. But the sole credit is not mine," he replied, suprising everybody.
"What do you mean?" asked Jaina.
"I serve the dreadlord Mal'Ganis. He commands the Scourge that will cleanse this land and establish a paradise of eternal darkness!" spoke Kel'Thuzad, making some of them gringe in disgust.
"And what exactly is this Scourge meant to cleanse?" asked Arthas, taunting the obvious.
"Why, the living, of course. His plan is already in motion. Seek him out at Stratholme if you need further proof," said Kel'Thuzad, as he was prepared to make his leave.
"You're not leaving here alive, necromancer!" spat Sylvanas in anger, as she drew an arrow aimed at Kel'Thuzad.
"I think not," said Kel'Thuzad, casting a spell that raised the dead villagers as zombies. "As for your precious lands elf...it'll fall next as well. Attack!"
"FORM UP!" commanded Falric, as the men raised their shields in defense and met the undead head-on.
The battle commenced, with the footmen infront with Arthas and Captain Falric; Jaina and Sylvanas attacking from behind. Yet they were assaulted from various positions, as the undead came out of the houses as well.
"We're getting hammered here!" yelled Marwyn, holding back the undead.
"Hold tight men!" replied Arthas, swinging Light' Vengeance at the undead and blasting them with holy magic.
"They aren't enough to stop us!" said Sylvanas, dealing with the zombies as they emerged from the houses. Hitting zombie after zombie with her arrows.
"No!" replied Jaina, as she realized Kel'Thuzad' plan, seeing the necromancer make her escape. "HE'S ESCAPING!"
"Not he isn't!" replied Sylvanas, running towards the footmen. "Give me a boost up!"
"Over here!" yelled Falric, bashing an undead back. Ready in time, when Sylvanas jumped onto his shield and he pushed up with his strength. Sending Sylvanas up into the air and over the undead, with a clear line-of-sight at the necromancer.
"Bash'a no falor talah!" muttered Sylvanas, before unleashing her arrow and hitting Kel'Thuzad in the leg.
She herself landed safely, drawing another arrow rapidly and sending it flying at him again, when he tried to get up. Sylvanas then drew fives arrows and let them loose at the undead behind her, drawing five more and repeating, with the undead soon dealt with.
"Nice shot..." said Arthas, as he cleared the last undead.
"It was nothing," replied Sylvanas, as they turned and walked towards the dying necromancer - having been shot in the leg and chest by her.
"Naive fool. My death will make little difference in the long run. For now, the scourging of this land...begins," gurgled Kel'Thuzad, a last warning to them, before the life faded from his body and he died.
"What a mess..." muttered Marwyn, as he looked at the destruction caused by one person.
"This isn't over. We need to go to Stratholme with haste!" spoke Arthas. "Yet Andorhal can't be left in this state. Marwyn!"
"Yes, M'Lord?" asked Marwyn, in attention.
"By my orders, I hereby promote you to Lieutenant," said Arthas.
"Thank you, M'Lord!" replied Marwyn, suprised at his fortune.
"As your first assignment, I want you to fortify this town and wait for the Silver Hand to relieve you. Then make with haste towards Stratholme," spoke Arthas, then looked at the dead body. "...and bury this necromancer. And everyone else."
"M'Lord?" asked Marwyn, suprised at the first request.
"If he only was a servant, then I don't want to risk him returning in any form. He is too dangerous!" replied Arthas. "Bury him as deep as you can, and ask for a paladin to guard his grave at all times."
"As you wish my M'Lord!" said Marwyn.
"This plague is strange..." spoke Sylvanas, plucking a single piece of grain from a busted crate, examining it in her gloved hand.
"Careful with that!" warned Jaina.
"Relax mage, I got an elven runestone from Quel'Thalas with me," said Sylvanas, showing Jaina her small, pocket-sized rune. "It protects me from any dark magic or curse...and this little seed seems to emmanate dark magic."
"What does it mean?" asked Jaina.
"That I need to check something out," said Sylvanas, covering the grain seed in a silk cloth and pocketing it. "Listen, if this plague is dangerous then I need to know how deadly this is. I got a place I can visit, that might give me some answers about this plague...but it's a maybe."
"Very well, but...be careful. My lands seem to be turning on itself and I don't want anybody more killed," replied Arthas, worried about her safety.
"I'll be fine," said Sylvanas. "Once I get some answers, I'll make my way to Stratholme."
"Do you need an escort?" asked Arthas, still worried.
"No need. I'll be faster on my own," replied Sylvanas, as she started to make her way in a running pace.
"Okay! Good luck!" said Arthas, as Sylvanas left. "Let's move!"
"You okay Arthas?" asked Jaina.
"I'm fine," he replied.
In truth, he felt conflicted at the current situation: a town of his destroyed, another in danger and he's worried about a young elven ranger, who could handle herself better than him.
XXX
A/N: Arthas is heading towards Stratholme (Heartglen stop too), can Sylvanas catch up? And what is this 'Sylvanas' place'.
*Bash'a no falor talah - Taste the chill of death.*
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