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Chapter 7: Northrend III
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Early the next morning their expedition made their way north to the nearby keep, that had been scouted by the dwarves when they had first arrived here. During much of the way there neither Muradin nor Sylvanas was asking much questions about yesterday; Sylvanas mostly due to the fact, that she believed her actions had caused enough problems and Muradin was just waiting for the right moment ask, when Arthas would be more level-headed and calm.
As they set up around the keep, Sylvanas heard most of the dwarves speaking up, about finding Frostmourne and how close it might be, as their original trail let them here, when they were repulsed in force back then. The sudden undead attack and weird wipes surrounding the place made even Muradin believe, that Frostmourne was located in a nearby cave they had barely enough time to scout. Yet that would be discussed later...
"You lied to your men and betrayed the mercenaries who fought for you. What's happening to you, Arthas? Is vengeance all that's important to you?" asked Muradin, finally demanding answers from Arthas, as the three of them sat around a nearby fire.
"Spare me, Muradin. You weren't there to see what Mal'Ganis did to my homeland," countered Arthas, feeling as though Muradin was accusing him.
"I was..." replied Sylvanas. "...you care for your people, yet you have been more obsessed than caring this journey."
"How? How can you say that?" asked Arthas, feeling betrayed.
"Look around you - were in a Light-forsaken wasteland, chasing a daemon, we have no idea where he is and your barely keeping yourself together," replied Sylvanas honestly, looking sorry for the prince. "I've been along as an aid these months and I can see your breaking. You've been slowly drifting apart, what happened since Andorhal?"
"...I'm not sure..." sighed Arthas, as he sat back down exhausted. "...I see my people die. I can't bare to stand it! It...it's too much..."
"Then learn," replied Sylvanas. "You gotta understand something - being a King will be even harder, people die...there isn't much you can do to stop it. A good King...can't save everyone...but I'll swear my name Windrunner, that he'll try to save as much as possible!"
"It's true Arthas," added Muradin, patting Arthas on the back. "You got a good heart lad. Yet don't let it always, to the leading."
"I'll try..." nodded Arthas, at the sober truth handed to him.
"The Dark Lord said you would come!" echoed the voice of Mal'Ganis through their base. "This is where you journey ends...boy. Trapped and freezing at the roof of the world, with only death to sing the tale of your doom!"
With the final word, Mal'Ganis himself appeared at the edge of their base - along with hundreds of undead behind him, all eager to slaughter Lordaeron' finest.
"This looks bad. We're completely surrounded," said Muradin, as he surveyed the situation. They were surrounded on every side 3-to-1, with their only escape the way they came and even then they couldn't all escape.
"Any ideas?" asked Sylvanas, feeling up her arrows and the 'special' one as well.
"There's still one chance. Help me claim Frostmourne! If it's as powerful as you said, it might tilt the scales of our favor!" spoke Arthas, proposing one last idea.
"I have a bad feeling about this, lad. But I promised I'd see this through," replied Muradin, remembering the first time his dwarves tried to go looking inside the cave - but now it was do or death.
"Captain, I'll leave you to organize our defenses," ordered Arthas to Falric, as he led the men to hold back the undead tide. While Arthas took some men with him to find Frostmourne. "Lets move out."
Muradin led them ahead, away from their base, as the battle began there - flesh met steel and iron. Now they were running on borrowed time; if they didn't hurry then all would be lost. Their trail leading to a cave, its entrance covered in strange runes, while the sounds of war echoed even this far.
"This it..." said Muradin, as he let Arthas go first and him following behind, Sylvanas and the men behind them. "The runes...their read: ...A soulless place..."
"That isn't welcoming," replied Sylvanas, drawing her bow out and kept an eye out for any dangers.
"Aye! Keep an eye out!" added Muradin, holding his hammer and axe tightly.
This place was more creepy than the dwarf had described, as far as Sylvanas felt it. She could practically feel the pressure on her body, harder to breath and feel - this place was cursed, no doubt about it.
"Archers!" yelled a footman, as he barreled into Sylvanas and her former location full of arrows. Shot by a group of skeletal archers from ahead of them.
"Damn!" cursed Sylvanas, as her saviour had been rewarded by ten arrows into his body, dead. Sylvanas currently stuck under the pile of flesh and steel. Her having trouble getting him off her, as she was wedged between two rocks and had no room to move. Although she could hear battling nearby.
"Need help?" asked Arthas, as he returned to her position.
"Skeletons?"
"Dead, and so was a dwarf as well," said Arthas, lifting the dead soldier off her and helping her back up.
"Thank you," replied Sylvanas.
"Damn! We lost a good friend!" muttered Muradin, as he checked on his fellow dwarf.
"We need to keep moving," said Arthas, walking ahead further into the cave.
Journeying ahead, they had to dealt with more undead creatures, losing three more soldiers on the way. Sylvanas not letting them get a jump on her again, as she had taken down two undead creatures herself. These undead were tougher and different than the ones they had fought against, yet they fell like the rest.
Luckily it wasn't much farther as they saw an opening ahead and it was guarded as well by a spectral, floating, armored being...a revenant.
"Turn back, mortals. Death and darkness are all that await you in this forsaken vault," spoke the being in an deep tone.
"I doubt there is anything down here more terrifying than what we've faced already," replied Arthas, dismissing the Guardian' warning.
"Believe what you will, boy. You shall not pass," it replied, drawing its shield and mace out - ready to fight them.
An ice blast followed, hitting their dwarven allies in the rear and killing them. A swing of its mace and a footmen was crushed under its force. Its shield blocking Sylvanas' three arrows in a second. It was a strong foe, as only Arthas could block its blows and even he had trouble withstanding his bone-crushing attacks.
"FOR KHAZ MODAN!" roared Muradin, as he grew in stature, his skin hardened to steel and turned a silver-white. Then he charged at the Guardian, axe and hammer smashing against its shield and gaining some ground.
"Come on!" urged Muradin, as he kept on the pressure and Arthas trying to attack from the side, yet he was pushed back by its mace. Any charging soldier, getting crushed by its mace, until only they three remained.
"Now lass!" roared Muradin, as he occupied its shield and Arthas its mace, leaving him open for an attack by Sylvanas.
"Band'or shorel'aran, Ban'dinoriel," uttered Sylvanas, as two arrows left her bow, hitting the weak-point of its armor and sending the Guardian reeling. Muradin following a hammer blow to its helmet and Arthas with a final blow to its chest-plate, sending it glattering back and coughing in pain.
"Turn away...before it's...too late," warned the Guardian, its life-force fading.
"Still trying to protect the sword, are you?" asked Arthas, weapon ready.
"No...trying to protect you...from it," replied the revenant, its voice echoing as a warning, as its spirit left the body and its armoring clanking onto cave-floor.
'Protect us? Why?' thought Sylvanas worringly, as she stepped over the empty armor on the cave, as she saw the prize in the vault.
"Behold, Muradin, our salvation, Frostmourne," spoke Arthas as he saw the pedestal and incased in the ice was the blade they seeked - Frostmourne.
'So this is it,' thought Sylvanas as well, eyes drawn to the blade.
"Hold lad, There is an inscription on the dais. It's a warning," spoke up Muradin, as he knelt before it and started to translate the inscription. "It says - Whomsoever takes up this blade shall wield power eternal. Just as the blade rends flesh, so must power scar the spirit - oh, I should've known. The blade is cursed! Let's get the hell out of here!"
"I would gladly bear any curse to save my homeland," replied Arthas, stepping closer and ignoring the warning.
"Leave it be, Arthas. Forget this business and lead your men home," urged on Muradin, trying to speak reason into his head.
"Damn the men! Nothing shall prevent me from having my revenge, old friend. Not even you," cursed Arthas, his eyes cold and remorseless. Muradin and Sylvanas shocked at the revealation.
"Now, I call out to the spirits of this place. I will give anything or pay any price, if only you will help me save my people," chanted Arthas, indifferent of his friends' pleas. Then the ice started to crack around the sword and exploded, showering the cave in deadly ice-spikes.
Sylvanas had reacted faster as when the ice cracked she had hit the ground hard, yet she had heard someone scream in pain - Muradin, who was bleeding farther away, pierced by the shards throughout his body. The howling pain in her leg confirmed her fears, that she had been injured as well; a dozen ice-shards...and all through it stood Arthas, unhurt and ignorant of what had happened.
The damned object standing a few feet away from him, begging to be picked up as Arthas threw his holy maul away like trash and started to walk towards it.
"Arthas! Stop!" yelled Sylvanas, as she tried to stop him, yet Arthas kept walking and not stopping.
"Damn...ignorant...stupid...foolish..." groaned Sylvanas, crawling on her knees and leg as she barely got up and hopped over to Arthas.
Clutching his hand, just as he was about to grasp that infernal thing and that face looking back at her, like she had murdered his people. Sylvanas merely reacted, her right hand smacking him hard against his face, a second time with her back-hand for good measure. Then she just held onto by his collar.
"Snap out of it!" yelled Sylvanas, as he shook him a bit, Arthas looking not angry but suprised. "Are you even listening?! Are you even thinking?! Your old friend is bleeding to death and you don't even care?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Arthas was pretty much speechless at the sudden outburst; nobody had ever spoken to him like that, not his father or Uther or Muradin. Damned, what was wrong with him.
"Sylvanas?"
"Yeah. Wake up, Prince!" replied Sylvanas, snapping a few times to make sure he was still listening. "Do you even realize what you have being doing these days? Do you even care anymore?!"
'...what have I...' thought Arthas as he recalled everything that happened - battles, warnings, Muradin, ships, betrayal, death...Mal'Ganis.
...your all alive...burned...vengeance...lie to your men...damn the men...my revenge...not even you...
Arthas re-opened his eyes at the sight of the young elven staring at him, he knew why he was here: it wasn't justice, but cold-hearted revenge like Uther had warned him of.
"No...I didn't...and yes...I do care," replied Arthas, as the full force of the truth hit him; in a wasteland, unknown and he almost sacrificed his friends for petty vengeance. "Light be damned on me! What have I done?!"
"Focus, we need to get out of here," added Sylvanas, trying to keep Arthas going from mad to suicidal. "You can beat yourself up later."
"Damn. Muradin!" realized Arthas, as he went over to his old mentor. He was badly bleeding, yet he would live as Arthas started to heal his wounds.
'Incen...' cursed Sylvanas, getting left with her injured leg, but she understood Muradin was more injured and she could handle the pain.
Yet the chilling howl, that echoed through the cave warned otherwise - Frostmourne was glowing and both Sylvanas and Arthas felt a dark presence envelope the cave. Dark ice-spirits appeared from inside the blade and charged...at Sylvanas.
They were frightful; by appearance and by their howling scream, that left Sylvanas on her knees as they attacked. Each strike feeling like a deep blade-cut into her skin.
"NO!" yelled Arthas, as he tried to stop them yet was flung back by the spirits, as they resumed their assault and started to encircle her.
Sylvanas realized to her horror, of the pain inflicted on her leg and of the spirits on her body, that their worst part was to come - the cold air she breathed was becoming thinner, as she started to suffocate and lose consciousness; she was going to die here.
"Leave! Her! ALONE!" roared Arthas, as he ran at them, picking up his maul on the way and charged at the cursed blade. Gathering his might and flunging Light' Vengeance at his unleashed object, his hammer shimmering with holy magic, not fueled by vengeance but of hope to save someone close to him.
His hammer flew and hit Frostmourne at its hilt...and shattered in a mighty flash of light and magic, as the shockwave knocked Arthas onto the ground as well.
Re-awakening, the ice-spirits were gone, the dark presence was gone and Sylvanas layed on the cavern floor unmoving.
"Sylvanas! Sylvanas, please wake up!" pleaded Arthas, as he held her body and gently tapped her cheek. A slight slap on his own cheek soothed his worries.
"...fool..." groaned Sylvanas, as she regained consciousness and opened her eyes, with no spirits around or Frostmourne for that matter. "The blade?"
"...destroyed..." replied Arthas, as he saw the vault filled with the shards of the cursed runeblade and of his hammer Light' Vengeance. He gathered the broken handle and a few intact pieces into his pouch, yet mostly he was unarmed now.
"We need...to get out of here," coughed Sylvanas, as she got up and still shaken from the ordeal.
"Muradin..." remembred Arthas, as he went over and hoisted the dwarf onto his shoulder and used his other hand to help Sylvanas walk. "We need to hurry...and escape this wasteland."
"Given up on your vengeance, I see?" said Sylvanas, as they hastily walked forward.
"Damned to that, this is feeling more like a trap set for us," replied Arthas, as they made with haste towards their camp. Falric immediately checking them on their return.
"Prince Arthas? Muradin? We can't hold out for much longer!" said Falric, urgent about their battle-state.
"Falric, what's the situation?" asked Arthas, as he handed Muradin over to some dwarves, who took him to a healer.
"The undead are hammering us hard, but..."
"What happened?" asked Arthas.
"...the undead, they just went crazy. One moment their coming at us in force and in-line, the next their attacking everybody, their own included," said Falric. "They're like wild animals, but there just too much...we can't hold them..."
"It doesn't matter! We need to retreat!" replied Arthas.
"But M'Lord, our ships they-"
"..are intact! I lied! And I regret and apologize for that my friend," interupted Arthas, suprising the captain.
"Do we have any mages left?" asked Sylvanas, as her leg got healed and bandaged up.
"I..um...yes we do!" replied Falric, getting his sense together. "We dared not risk them yet."
"Good. Gather them, and let them teleport you to the ships," said Sylvanas.
"We might have too many," added Falric, recounting their remaining troops and the number of mages left.
"Then we make a run for it!" replied Arthas. "Evacuate the wounded and injured. Now!"
"I...yes M'Lord!" said Falric, running to the centre of their basecamp and sounding their retreat and evacuation.
"We need to hurry," added Sylvanas, as she got patched up and back on her feet.
"I know," replied Arthas, as he went over to help with the retreat, as Sylvanas went over to hold back the mindless undead tide.
"Move it!" urged on Falric, as the wounded were gathered and teleported to the ships. "M'Lord you sho-"
"No! I won't leave, until everybody else!" replied Arthas to Falric, he made the mistake of bringing the men of Lordaeron to their death. He wasn't leaving until they were all safe.
"Very well," said Falric, as he helped more wounded to the mages.
Farther away, watching from a cliff was Mal'Ganis who was furious at the turn of events: Nerzhul' presence was gone, the Scrouge were a mindless horde now and were killing everybody, even their own. Nerzhul and his plan had backfired heavily and likely to cause a major setback for the Burning Legion; no matter, Mal'Ganis had his orders and one of them was to make sure Arthas didn't leave Northrend alive.
He soon launched himself from the cliff, gliding over the battlefield and into Arthas' base.
"Hello...boy..." taunted Mal'Ganis, landing only a few feet away from him.
"Mal'Ganis!" replied Arthas angrily, with his archenemy showing up at the worst time.
"Your demise...is here!" said Mal'Ganis, charging at Arthas, claws ready.
"M'Lord!" yelled Marwyn, throwing his shield and sword to Arthas, who managed to catch and block Mal'Ganis' first blow with the shield.
"Everybody flee! Flee to the ships and set sail for Lordaeron! This is my last order!" yelled Arthas, as he dueled Mal'Ganis. "Run!"
"You heard the Prince! Move it!" urged on Falric, as the remaining soldiers started to flee to the mages.
"How foolish! How...human..." insulted Mal'Ganis at show of sacrifice, as the rest of the humans fleed.
Arthas replied by smacking Mal'Ganis in the face with his carried shield. "How stupid of a dreadlord, to bet everything on me taking up some cursed blade!"
"You are nothing!" roared back Mal'Ganis, bashing away his shield and sending him reeling by a carrion swarm. "Your end...is now..."
"I don't think so," replied Sylvanas, as she shot the nerubian arrow at Mal'Ganis, hitting him straight in the neck. With her and Falric going over to help Arthas.
"I told you to flee!" said Arthas, as he was helped up by Falric.
"I don't follow your orders nor do I intend to leave you to die in this wasteland!" replied Sylvanas.
"I was with her!" added Falric as well. "The mages left us a portal, not to the ships but as close as they could get."
"Now move your ass!" urged Sylvanas, as they headed through the portal, as the undead fell on their base.
Mal'Ganis meanwhile had been choking on the poison/venom that was affecting him; too weakened to stop the fleeing mortals. The blasted arrow was of nerubian origin - how did a blasted elf get her hands on a nerubian artifact anyway?
"...for the Spider Kingdom!" Mal'Ganis heard spoken, as the ground rumbled and several nerubian warriors appeared to slaughter the mindless undead, answering Mal'Ganis' question.
Leading them was the same nerubian seer, who had given Sylvanas the tool of their vengeance and their gift was rewarded handsomely as the now, mindless undead were easy prey to the vengeful nerubians. Mal'Ganis being a more sweeter prize as the nerubians unleashed their fury upon the weak dreadlord and tore him apart.
"Aknul'Zah? What of the travellers?" asked a nearby warrior.
"...let them go...one day...they'll be back...and then...we can exact our vengeance...against the frozen jailor..." replied the seer, screeching in victory soon-after as this would only be their first victory to come against the Scourge.
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Arthas, Falric and Sylvanas were deposited in the old dwarven' camp as the portal closed behind them. Yet the sound of the howling undead, urged them to run faster to the ships.
"Falric! Lead us!" said Arthas, as he scooped up Sylvanas, who was slower due to her sore leg, as they ran through the ridge that they came through the first time.
"Unde-" warned Sylvanas, until a boulder crushed the chasing undead, courtesy of a nerubian. "-never mind."
They arrived to see the ships setting sail, except for one which was anchored a bit off shore. Waving from the deck was Marwyn, yelling as well.
"There!" pointed Falric at a small row-boat.
"It'll do!" replied Arthas, chucking Sylvanas onto it, as he and Falric started to paddle with haste.
"Wagons!" yelled Falric, as he saw several meat wagons arrive on shore with a couple acolytes. Soon the meat wagons unleashing their payload at them.
"Faster!" urged Arthas, as they tried to get beyond the meat wagons' range, riding through the waves and freezing water splashing at them.
"Damned..." cursed Sylvanas, as she started to shoot at the meat wagons and acolytes operating them, managing to hit a few and disable one wagon. That was until one payload was about hit them.
"Abandon ship!" yelled Falric, as he jumped into the freezing water, Arthas and Sylvanas following them as their row-boat was destroyed.
"M'Lord!" came the voice of Marwyn, as a rope was thrown into the water - Falric and Arthas grasping onto it as they were pulled out, Sylvanas hanging onto Arthas through the ordeal. Lordaeron' cannons roaring in revenge, as they annihilated the wagons on shore.
"Get some warm clothing here!" ordered Marwyn, as Arthas, Falric and Sylvanas were pulled onboard and out of the freezing water.
"Why did you stay? I ordered you to flee," asked Arthas as they were brought a pair of blankets to cover them. "How can you even accept me as a Prince anymore?"
"M'Lord, I suggest you get warmed up, before you freeze to death," said Marwyn calmly and by his title, suprising Arthas.
"What?"
"Prince Arthas, we swore to follow you and we wouldn't have left with you anyway," added Falric.
"Why? After everything I put you through?"
"Prince Arthas, why do you think we came along? It wasn't for the view," chuckled Falric. "We understand, why you did it - to kill a madman, who threatened the very lives of our countrymen, families and you'd had chased him to the ends of the world for justice...personally as well."
"If you had asked, we would have stayed," added Marwyn. "We serve you M'Lord, not Uther..."
"...your army is more loyal than you give them credit for..." said Sylvanas, through the shakes, holding the fur blanket closer. "...and you weren't on a mad-chase, you rescued a group of dwarves and your old friend, a brother of the Dwarven King if I recall, that counts for something..."
"It does..." sighed Arthas.
"Thank you...all of you...I'll never forget this...Falric, Marwyn...Sylvanas," spoke Arthas, looking at each of them. "I can never repay for what I have done, but I'll try to honor you and the sacrifices that have been made for the rest of my life."
"You do that M'Lord...but for now...get below, before you freeze," said Marwyn, as he helped them down below.
'What a trip,' thought Sylvanas, shivering as she was helped down - seeing a spider-creature on a cliff, holding a severed head on a spear, Sylvanas grinning at the glimpse she saw. "...and as for that dreadlord...I believe he won't be coming back anymore..."
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A/N: Ah yeah...good!Arthas and Sylvanas, what will the future bring? More stories inbound. (Also who liked Sylvanas slapping Arthas? *me*)
Please review.