~*~ Author's Notes ~*~
Yes, I felt kind of moronic writing about a 'torture chamber' not only above ground but out in the, for all intents and purpose, wide open spaces. I'm so relieved I get to explain why it's there that I'm writing this note about it to make myself feel better! *Exhale*
~*~ Chapter 46 ~*~
"Insane! Did I mention you're all insane?" The scout didn't really think it was a good idea to go inside the open gate but the children, jungle cat and the Warlock were following so he had little choice.
Smack! "That isn't how you talk to a lady unless you enjoy her teeth at your neck!" the Warlock ground out.
"I'm sorry." Though he wasn't.
The single armed-and-armored man saw them running and took his fighting stance, "Stop, Horde."
"Wrong again!" The Druid disagreed, giving him four knuckles to the jaw. "Druid. Of. Auberdin! Not Horde! Not Scarlet! Not Scourge or Forsaken! Kal-dor-ei!" He dropped to the ground, hands around his face and two-handed sword plopping in the mud. "Any objections?" She looked around, both hands raised, nails out.
The civilians stopped cold, adults stepping forward to protect the young and old. The Warlock and the scout came up to flank her with Mr. Meows making an impressive display in his blue and silver feline armor. It was the same Quel'dorie design as the scout's leathers and the impressive bow.
"Good," the Druid said, "now close the gate; the Scourge are marching and I don't now how long your shield is going to hold them out."
"No shield." Someone said. Man or woman was uncertain from their panting and location behind the crowd. "The Priests betrayed us; they work for the traitor prince now. The Archbishop is dead."
"Come again?" Priest… betraying?… the living? The absurdity that such a thing could happen, that those meant to protect and serve the very essence of humanity could turn around and serve the very essence of destruction? Elune on High, is anything sacred enough to never be betrayed?
The crowd parted for the speaker. It was Salira, followed by Nekov. There had been a third but he disappeared into the crowd the second it had parted and Kayas couldn't locate him anywhere. It was probably a Rogue of some sort, though obviously of no consequence. Upon seeing Nekov the crowd parted more.
The Warlock stepped forward, "Well I had noticed the ease of my departure but I marked it up to whatever method Theron's man had planned to get me out. I had not expected to come back in so easily."
Salira nodded sharply and gave orders to two of the males standing behind her. The gatehouse was locked and barred from the inside but was opened quickly when Salira barked orders. Apparently she was in charge now?
Salira shook her head, "How many?" She was not concerned with the Priests or the shield, for they were out of their hands now. The gate began to close as they watched.
The scout proved his rank. "Thirty-seven on the West, twenty-three on the East. Two abominations, four mounted units, half a dozen gargoyles and two units of food soldiers, twelve each. All from the south. One caster, probably a necromancer though they could possess healing abilities. Plus however many of their soldiers are sound enough to raise again after we fought them at the East and West Gates." The scout paused, "And however many Priests your own forces haven't killed yet. How many defenses do you have left?"
Salira blinked at the scout. "Damn, son. Were you born with a gift or is it some training we've been neglecting to give our recruits?"
The boy had the decency to look modest, "Wargames with the children." Said corpse children were hanging back behind everyone, wary of the living and dead alike. Their trust was not easily earned but very easily lost. All of them knew what would become of them if either Arthas or the Scarlet marmots captured them.
"We have one unit left, a mix of archers and foot soldiers. One mage-priest inept at healing." The Warrior took a deep breath; "The Banshee Queen brought her soldiers and casters into the compound claiming she was doing us a favor by getting rid of our traitor Priests."
"Where is the Commander?" Serz asked, "He seems to be missing."
"Ah… Sylvanas kinda … hit him with her sword… for talking too much. Instead of going to get his people to safety immediately." Salira winced knowing it sounded as bad as it was.
"She has a habit of hitting people with her swords when they are wont to talk too much." The scout grinned in open admiration, "Blade or flat?" He ignored the incredulous look the Druid gave him.
"Flat; knocked him out cold," Nekov answered, "Not so much as a nick though, so he won't turn for good."
The Warlock nodded, glad that that was settled and squared away. Salira let out a sigh of relief when the gate settled into the mud and sank deep. "That should hold them out."
The scout scoffed, "And who will protect us from what is in here?" Purple lighting was seen from every corner of the blood washed fortress. The flashes were so bright it completed with the light from the magic-fed blaze and when it ran into the black wall of smoke it created mini sonic booms of thunder.
Magic and rain clashed in the bright darkness and night.
"That is a problem," the Warlock agreed. "The Dark Lady can be trusted to bring down as many Priests as her minions may find, though what will happen once they are defeated is a guessing game."
Nekov narrowed his eyes, "Some of her best people are here to quell the Lich Kings minions, those trained to fight those who are alive and drawing on Arthas' power, but she left out the front gate headed back to Undercity."
"Bringing reinforcements?" The Druid asked hopefully. She would take an angry Queen who wanted her alive over the Scarlet Commander. The Dark Lady wasn't threatening to kill her by sunrise if she didn't deliver her a living weapon.
"Sylvanas doesn't do her own fighting. She hasn't in a very long time; not since the Battle for the Castle." It was the Commander, finally caught up to them after so long. A nasty bruise had bloomed on the side of his face, shaped like the weapon that struck him, but was otherwise no worse for his encounter.
"Salira is in charge now." Nekov was quick to establish this fact in the face of his old superior.
The Commander finally noticed his former underling, blinked and squinted threw the rain and muck. "Man of many names, you are. Which one are you using today?"
"Nekov." The former Scarlet's voice was quiet and dangerous, holding bake rage and betrayal in the face of their current situation. "Only Nekov now and to the end."
The Commander knodded, "She makes living weapons." The Druid hissed at him but he continued, "Be angry at me all you want but you'd have done the same. Would have left them all behind to keep her out of that devil's hands and any true champion of the Light would have taken the sacrifice willingly."
A long silence followed, punctuated on occasion by screams and cries for mercy filtering in from other sections of what had been a bastion of life for the living, all of it fallen apart and come undone so quickly.
"The Lich King fields his armies with champions of the Light who took the sacrifice willingly. A debt is owed and it will be settled. But not tonight." The black scythe he had strapped to his back came to rest under the Commander's chin. For his part the man did not flinch. The back of the blade was sharpened, an augmentation made to turn a common painted farm tool into a real weapon. Like a curved long sword on a seven-foot, curved pole. "I serve the Queen of the Forsaken now and what my Queen says goes. Salira is in charge. Do you protest?"
"When you already have your weapon at my throat and your foul minions overrunning my command, how can I!?"
"The quicker to help us all reach an understanding and agreement." The blade was withdrawn; Nekov turned back to Salira. "What say you, boss?"
The reality that her former friend had not allowed the Commander to retake command struck the lowly Warrior like a ton of bricks. "I'm not a commander, I don't know how to lead-"
"Save it, Salira. You know about the Mills and I now about your house on the cliff. Don't tell me you've never lead a fight against the Scourge."
The Scarlet woman gasped and paled, eyes shining suddenly with tears. If they were close enough, the Druid was sure she would have slapped the black-clad man hard enough to spin his head backward and send him back to his precious Queen that way. "I didn't tell you that so you could use it against me in service of Forsaken, revenge-obsessed zealots!"
Kettle, meet pot…
Serz was moved to speak, "Young man, you don't throw someone's history in front of the tram and run them over will it to gain compliance!"
"We don't have time-"
"Ms. Salira - is that what you like to be called? - if you want me to … keep him quiet I can do just that and gladly." That shimmering darkness was back in the Warlock's eyes. Nekov ground his teeth shut and wisely crossed those fists that looked so much like they wanted to pound the undead man's skull into maggot-mush.
She shook her head, "No, thank you Sir Huzad. I understand – I don't like it but I understand." Her brown eyes locked with the other's brown eyes, "If you remember what happened last time I tried to make an army to fight the Scourge-" -her hand was pointing behind them all… to the lifeless children who stood between them and the gate. "I wont have it happen again. Not again. Pick someone else."
Nekove ground his teeth again in frustration and growled, "There is no one else, woman! He'll fight the Forsakena and the Scourge and not give a damn who is here to help and who is here to kill!" This time the Commander crossed his arms in order to avoid slinging fists.
"Both of them are here to kill," the scout said quietly, "But as it's already been pointed out, there isn't an assurance that the Forsaken wont turn on the rest of you once they run out of Priests to kill."
The Druid, who had been quiet and watching the black hole where the gate was, finally spoke, "What if the Priests win the day? They had to know the Dark Lady wouldn't just stand by and allow the Lich King to go recruiting willy-nilly in her own territory. Not when she has already laid claim to everyone who could serve her in undeath." The Human term 'willy-nilly' is one she had picked up traveling threw the Plaguelands, along with a good bit of understanding of how the Lich King liked to do his recruiting.
They were all quiet for a minute.
"You're asking what their contingency plan is?' The Commander was glaring a hole threw Nekov but far more worried about his decimated armed forces, flame ravaged mages and traitor priests. "No way they could have known the Banshee witch was going to be here. If I were him I would have… taken over the compound from the inside using the priests to bring down the archers, opened the cellar door to take care of the civilians and foot men alike, and put the shield back up to keep the Forsaken out." He spurred the distinction, detesting there was need for it. Kayas knew from experience that the Scarlets deliberately did not speak the difference between Scourge and Forsaken lest the mind start to believe e a difference existed.
Serz' eyebrow skin rose up, "Ah, what do you mean?"
That one good eye glared at the Warlock, "You think I got my position for my good looks, man? Pay attention! There is a reason some of us survived the Battle for the Castle when that she-witch set her dreadlord on us." With everyone looking at him he bowed his head for a moment and then looked up at Warlock once again and asked, "Did you ever wonder why we kept the Field of Agony above ground and outdoors? That is a rather impractical way of torturing information out of prisoners."(1)
Kayas spoke before she though, an adolescent curiosity getting the better of her, "I did." Both ashen hands were over her mouth in apology as both men looked at her dismissingly and back at each other.
"Something wrong with the underground facilities, Commander?" Nekov had no shame in asking. "They were shut down and you never told us why. No one ever told us why. You just imported mages from Dalaran come looking for missing family and then they disappeared when that shield went up."
"I'm a master and old enough to be your grandfather, plague-ridden traitor that you are you will not speak to me that way. Maybe some day I can take this hammer and show you why I'm in charge around here and you were kicked out of the Monetary." When Nekov looked surprised the Commander barked, "Yes, I know about that!"
Nekov went to strike at the man but Salira whistled sharply, "Answer the question. Why did you stop using the cellar? Those tunnels go from every corner of the compound and can be used to escape if only you hadn't magically sealed all the entrances."
The scout spoke for the first time, causing them all to shift a little and look at him, "If I were sealing tunnels shut that had been dug under the whole compound to facilitate escape should the place ever be overrun it wouldn't be to spite people going in… it would be to stop something getting out."
Salira's attention snapped back to the commander, "What did you do? What did you do!"
He made another hard decision, Kayas though. He sacrificed another part of his humanity to keep the living amongst the living. At least the ones he was able to protect. Grudgingly the Druid was beginning to understand this man, though it didn't go as far as thinking she would ever like him as a person, for the hopelessness of his situation. His home and people were decimated, his forests and towns overrun with the walking dead and he was besieged on all sides by enemies that far, far outnumbered his own. And yet here he and his were, up till recent events, alive and safe inside their red-washed fortress.
It had only been a matter of time before something went terribly wrong.
"Four hundred prisoners and one-hundred-fifty of our own inside when I sealed it off. It doesn't matter how or why it happened; someone infected one of the prisoners and let him lose. He hid, died, rose and infected the rest. They were killing everything. I locked the gates and made the mages put magical wards on it. I had to keep the rest of the enclave!"
Five hundred. Five hundred and fifty undead minions of the Lich King trapped in the tunnels spanning every second of the compound.
Elune on High, don't let me hear what I don't want to hear. "Did the Archbishop know about the locks?"
The Commander looked at her like she just spat on him. Then his eyes widened, his jaw loosened, his lungs filled with air. "He did," the old man said slowly, mournfully. "Yes he did."