Disclaimer: Warcraft is the property of Blizzard.
Chapter 5: Northrend I
XXX
One month later
Sylvanas pulled her hood closer, as the wind flapped it around. She could feel the cold air assault her face and cheeks, it was getting colder with each day - Northrend was getting closer. Sylvanas had gotten some extra leather and fur pattings for herself before leaving, as the ice-cold winter there could leave your fingers numb and in pain easily.
Yet only rumours of Northrend existed: a cold wasteland isn't visitor friendly; myths of ice trolls, dark magicks and ancient spider kingdoms was most, what was known about it. Herself hoping that they could deal with the daemon and leave, before they stirred up any ancient creatures there.
They had spend nearly a month at sea and Sylvanas had gotten to know the few people around Arthas too. Despite being a prince, Sylvanas had found out that by far he had almost no friends: Jaina was an exception but she had left him at Stratholme; Falric was the only 'close-friend' he had, yet that was also linked to him being a prince; Marwyn was merely tagging along, friend of a friend. So in an akward sense, Sylvanas was by far the only 'real' friend who wasn't tied to his prince role. A funny idea to one, who protected a magical-kingdom miles away from him.
"Strange no?" asked a high elf priestess, coming next to her.
"Excuse me?" questioned Sylvanas, as she broke from her pondering.
"Our journey - from Quel'Thalas to Lordaeron to...Northrend," said the elf. "The Light is a strange guide, no?"
"I guess so..." replied Sylvanas, eyeing the young priestess. She was dressed in the regular robes, with the added warmer clothing along with a staff...yet she carried a blade as well. "...you aren't the usual priest I see..."
"Oh...no I ain't..." she replied, pulling the small blade from her hip. "I am practical - I trust in the Light, yet have a weapon incase of trouble. So far the Light is still with me and thus I have followed my path."
"What's your name?" asked Sylvanas.
"Pyragon Lightseeker," she replied.
"Well...by your way, I think you strife to be a paladin," said Sylvanas.
"You...you think so?" asked Pyragon, a little shy. "...cause it's hard to find a teacher...and I'm still studying the Light...although I do wish to become one...someday...my dream...yet...high elf paladins are rare..."
"Not rare...hard to find..." humoured Sylvanas, they were almost non-existent in Quel'Thalas, only one or two from the Second War.
"I guess so...I...thank you for coming with us. Having you, Lady Sylvanas with us, eases my mind of worry," spoke Pyragon, before she bowed and left.
'Ease?' humped Sylvanas at the statement, her family' legacy was famous...yet in the end it all came to the individual itself. Windrunner or not, she wouldn't get careless just because of her bloodline. Daemons were known to be tricky and dangerous foes, and killing one wouldn't be easy...even one of Mal'Ganis' level.
As the sun set over the horizon, she decided to head inside as well - it was many times colder at night, so she was staying below deck. Setting herself on a nearby hammick among the numerous humans and elves as sleep soon took her.
XXX
"Hard to right...faster...ice ahead!" came the voice of Captain Valos of the King's Might, awaking Sylvanas from her slumber and the sudden ship jerking right, sending her off the hammick. "...left...fasten sails..."
"What's going on?!" asked Sylvanas, getting jerked left and right.
"We're dodging some ice! Brace yourself!" yelled Arthas, warning everybody.
"Is it Mal'Ganis?!" asked Sylvanas, as he followed Arthas.
"I don't know...yet these are some dangerous waves!" replied Arthas, holding on.
"Do you th-UH!" asked Sylvanas, before she gotten between the wooden hull and Arthas by a nasty crash.
"Land, ho!"
"Oh...hmm...sorry about that..." said Arthas, half-red in the face as he got off Sylvanas, then started to akwardly head topside. "...land...here..lets go..."
"Uhmm...yes of course..." she replied, heading up as well while hiding a slight blush under her hood. Luckily the soon icy-air covered her redness - Northrend.
""This is a light-forsaken land, isn't it? You can barely even see the sun! This howling wind cuts to the bone and you're not even shaking. M'Lord, are you all right?" spoke Falric, from his monologue.
"Captain, are all of my forces ccounted for?" asked Arthas, ignoring the frosty cold.
"Nearly. There were only a few ships that were lost at sea," replied Falric.
"Very well. Our first priority is to set up a base camp with proper defenses. There's no telling what's waiting for us out there in the shadows," said Arthas, as he lead on with his group.
"Bloody cold!" muttered Sylvanas, as they trecked on, it was snowing with visibility almost zero.
"Keep it together! Don't get lost in the storm!" replied Falric, pushing on from behind.
"Keep pushing! Ridge ahead!" urged on Arthas, staying in the middle, as he saw a nearby ridge, which could get them out of the storm.
They soon arrived there, which was less windy...yet also felt...watched...a hammer soon striking a nearby footman and...gun-fire heard.
"We're under attack! Take cover!" yelled Arthas, taking cover behind some rocks with the rest taking cover as well...yet the firing soon stopped, as it had just begun.
"Bloody hell, your not undead! Your alive...?" asked a stouty fellow, appearing from nearby - a dwarf.
"Muradin? Muradin Bronzebread is that you?" asked Arthas suprised to find an old friend and mentor here.
"Damn boy. I never imagined you'd come to our rescue!" chuckled the dwarf, as several dwarves carrying rifles appeared as well.
"Rescue? Muradin, I didn't even know you were here," replied Arthas akwardly.
"Just the same, lad. I could use your help. My mates and I were attacked, and we got separated. I'd appreciate any backup you could give me," asked Muradin from his old pupil.
"Of course I'll help, Muradin. Lets move!" replied Arthas, as he urged Muradin to lead them on.
Meanwhile at back, Sylvanas was confused and intriqued on the fact of finding dwarves here and for what reason - Muradin himself spotting the out-of-place elf at the back.
"I don't think we have met young lass. What's yer name?" asked Muradin, from the Elven Ranger.
"Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Silvermoon," replied Sylvanas to Muradin' greeting.
"And what might a young elf, like yourself be after here?" chuckled Muradin.
"I'd be asking what might a dwarf be after in this frozen wasteland as well," replied Sylvanas, under her hood
"Ohoh...fair enough. I'll explain soon, right now I just want to save my mates," said Muradin, as they picked up the pace.
"How dangerous is it here?" asked Sylvanas.
"Rumours to rumours, besides a few trolls and exotic creatures, we've been fighting these bloody undead for weeks," replied Muradin. "An I'd say, that I rather fight some troll than these undead. Merciless, everywhere and they seem very organized, despite being brain-dead."
"That's not good," added Sylvanas, as they soon passed through the ridge and back into the open. Less snow atleast, for the moment - at their fast pace they soon spotted an encampement with a large group of dwarves there, fighting against the undead.
"That's them! And they're still under attack from the undead!" said Muradin, charging in.
"Let's move, men! Those dwarves need help!" urged on Arthas, as he led his men to help the dwarves.
"So much for staying together," muttered Sylvanas, raining arrows from above - aiming at the gargoyles and crypt fiends. A lot of them surrounded the dwarves, yet they could be dealt with now, thanks to the support from Arthas and his men.
She hadn't seen dwarves fight-in-person, yet the sight of dwarven warriors, riflemen and Muradin himself smashing apart the undead gave her though - if the dwarves were having trouble here, then what could they expect.
"All right, Muradin. What were you doing up here, anyway?" asked Arthas, as the last undead was dealt with - his own forces having taken moderate casualties.
"Well, lad, there's an ancient way that lies somewhere in this glacier wasteland. Supposedly, it leads you to a hidden vault where a runeblade named Frostmourne is held," spoke Muradin, Sylvanas keeping her ears on the conversation. "We came here to recover Frostmourne, but the closer we came to finding the way, the more undead we encountered."
"All this? Just for a blade?" asked Sylvanas, suprised at the dwarves' reason for being here.
"A runeblade!" spoke Muradin. "And this isn't some simple blade. This is rumoured to be the most powerful runeblade ever made. Possibly created by our ancestors."
"Or something older," added Sylvanas.
"Could be, yet we decided to take the risk anyway," said Muradin.
"Prince Arthas..." came Marwyn' voice, arriving at their location with a couple of soldiers. "...we haven't found any trace of Mal'Ganis."
"No matter. He can't hide from me forever. Captain, I want you to establish this site as our primary base," replied Arthas, indicating at the half-destroyed dwarf encampement.
"Yes, M'lord!" nodded Marwyn, as he started to head back towards the ships to relay the orders.
"It'll take a couple of hours, before we can move on," added Arthas.
"Well then, if you have some time I wanna show you something," said Muradin.
"Show what?" asked Arthas.
"It's a small cave nearby, an hour treck away. No worries, it is a secured way...yet inside it...well you'll just have to see for yerself," spoke Muradin. "We can handle it from now. The last attack caught us off-guard, yet now...and with your aid, we can hold this place now."
"I suppose so..." said Arthas, Sylvanas nodding in approval. "Is it...bad?"
"You'll have to see it...to believe it, old friend," replied Muradin.
XXX
Muradin had been leading Arthas and Sylvanas through the snow for an hour now; Arthas having left Falric in charge while he was gone. Despite it being a safe route, it wasn't by any means an easy one - trecking through the snow took twice the amount of physical exertion than usual.
"How much farther?" asked Sylvanas, keeping her arms close to her body for warmth.
"It should be around here somewhere," said Muradin. "A cave..."
"Like that?" asked Arthas, pointing at one, that was a bit snowed in.
"Yup. Come on!" urged on Muradin, as they got out of the snow. He soon grabbed and lit a torch to illuminate their way. "Look!"
"Wow..." said both Arthas and Sylvanas, dusting off the snow. Then they saw several glyphs and decorative pictures adjorning the cave: of creatures, spider-like and of mangled creatures and they seemed to be fighting...with the spider-creatures in mangled positions in later pictures.
"What do they mean?" asked Arthas, amazed and intrigued by the images.
"If I had to guess, these seem to be nerubian...the spider-creatures of these lands...living and once rulers of this land. They seem to detail a war, against these mangled creatures - and they seemed to have been losing this one. With their foes...raising the nerubians into their ranks..." spoke Muradin. "And...these markings seem only a few years old."
"Oh...well that's encouraging," said Sylvanas annoyed. "We're up against a foe, who wants to 'mangle' us. No bet that those 'mangled' are undead and we're badly prepared for this kind of attack."
"Aye, a chillin' factor. Isn't it?" said Muradin, to which they silently nodded. "Aight, lets head back now."
Sylvanas was prepared to leave with them...if not for a pair of hairy hands dragging her into a nearby tunnel, behind a rock. Depositing her in a small lit tunnel...and Sylvanas being soon face-to-face with one of those spider-creatures
"Stay back!" roared Sylvanas, drawing her daggers and getting into an attack position, ready for it to attack.
"Wait! I mean no harm," spoke the creature, hands up in surrender.
"You can speak?! Aren't you one of the undead?!" asked Sylvanas suprised, yet keeping her blades up.
"No! I am a nerubian. Forgive me...we don't have much time...I come with a gift..." spoke the nerubian, it pulling a spiked and hair-covered arrow-like object from under its carapace.
"An arrow?" asked Sylvanas, as the nerubian quickly handed her the arrow-thing.
"We share a common foe...I had a vision of you...no matter. A deadly weapon this...use it against the one, you hunt..." added the nerubian seer, before retreating away into a tunnel and Sylvanas was left to ponder its words...and 'gift'.
"Sylvanas?!"
"Lass?"
"Here!" yelled Sylvanas, pocketing the nerubian-arrow and climbing back upto Arthas and Muradin. "Sorry. Hole. Fell through it."
"You alright?" asked Arthas worried.
"I'm fine," replied Sylvanas, faking a smile. "Lets head back."
XXX
A/N: Arthas and Sylvanas in Northrend; a little spark? Muradin met and a nerubian 'gift'. What next?
Please review.