~*~ Author's Notes ~*~

Lots of Notes incoming!

I saw fan art of Darkshore once and was amazed at how BIG the port city of Auberdine would have been in lore, as compared to the small quest hub it is in the game world. The Scarlet compound is about the size of New Avalon/Tyr's Hand but sectioned off like Stromgarde Keep in Artahi Highlands. If the reader is interested in in-game visuals do a fly by or Google image search.

9 pages of outlines crit me for 9 billion and ran away with my cognitive functions…

Google "Fantasy Armor and Lady Bits" by Mad Art Lab. Thank me latter.

There is more at stake than life and land

When the undead walk with single plan

One king rules all with vile demand

Break them all who would withstand

~*~ Chapter 47 ~*~

The Scourge arriving at the back gate was announced by ear-shattering screams from the gargoyles and roars of battle lust from the horror-stricken abominations. Though those inside could not see how they worked the gate, the sound of rattling, smashing, grinding and magic sizzled threw the air and reverberated threw their bones. The Scourge were coming.

Five hundred and fifty undead under them, a few hundred outside and a couple hundred traitor priests inside; the Druid threw in all the Banshee Queen's people just because they were not on the side of the living. So add several hundred more on top a thousand or so and it would not be a stretch to say the five or six fighters the Scarlets had left were outnumbered. If any of the other fighters survived from other sections of the compound they were nowhere to be seen.

They were trapped between sections of the fortress overtaken with fire, traitors and the Scourge.

"So what happen to the mages after they locked the gates?" Salira spoke to the Commander but took a step back every time the iron-crunching sound of abominations beating on the gate thudded through the rain and despair. The civilians screamed and huddled, a few hundred warm bodies crying out to be saved. Most of them had lived this very night before, over and over again in their nightmares since the experiencing it in their own villages and farmsteads. Most of them have even known that some day it would come again, though that admission did not make the reality any easier.

The Commander grunted, "Guess." If the Scarlet warrior was going to make him say it, he'd say it. Salira may be in command for the time being, but her heart was too soft to stomach the hard decisions he had made to keep them all alive.

The Druid wanted to take her claws to his backside and hear him scream, "You locked them in, didn't you?"

"No one to know how the seal was made; no one to betray it to the Lich King's minions. Or her."

A sonic boom of thunder split the air as another streak of purple shadow magic hit the wall of smoke. Half the fortress was up in flames; it spread towards them now, a wall of fire wanting revenge on the living. The living quarters were gone now; including the tower Kayas had stayed in during her short prisonership.

The scout's luminous silver eyes watched the blaze in fascination. All elf-kind were sensitive to the ebb and flow of magic and he probably had no idea why it drew him in as much as it did. When the Druid put a hand up to block his vision the young kaldorie snapped out of his stupor and frowned at her. Glad to have him stop drooling over the destructive forces of magic she turned back to Salira and waited for instruction.

The Warlock cringed every time the Scourge struck the gate. Or was it when the children screamed? Either way he signed heavily, or would have if he still had lungs, "Ms. Salira, I think we are in need of an escape plan."

"What, you don't want to stand and fight? Take as many of them with us as we can before we're all massacred? Isn't that what good champion's of the Light do?" Nekov looked more annoyed than anything. The Dark Lady had commanded him to get the Druid out and not to bother coming back without her. That she wouldn't leave without all the rabble pricked him to no end.

The fuming Scarlet warrior resisted the urge to take her blood-soaked weapon upside the tainted mortal's skull, "One more word out of you and I'm going to have those little mages iceblock you and float you over the gate as an appetizer for the Scourge!"

The undead children were absolutely delighted with this idea and quickly huddled together speaking their gibberish language and discussing how it could be done. Salira's stomach flipped and flopped and settled. It was unnerving that it did settle, instead of keep flipping. The children were Sylvannas Angels, fighters every one. As trained and deadly as any of her great champion, just travel size in small bodies.

These little Forsaken brats were currently their best and only real group of fighters. They were afraid though but more of the Scourge than the living, though their small group was huddled away from the rest. The tallest Quel'dorie child seemed to be in charge, a blue tinged mage in her own right, and most excited to see if she would get to iceblock the Queen's new toy.

The rain was letting up now but the ear splitting thunder, screaming, sizzle of magic, screaming children, praying adults and the Goddess-awefull noise of the Scourge at the gate made her long for the wing-song quiet forests of Ashenvale. Pure, alive, beautiful and nothing like Tirisfal Glades today. The heart of a Druid ached at the though of what this place must have been like before all of this.

Kayas swallowed and glanced sideways at the warlock. "I have a suggestion," she proposed when he noticed her look and returned it, "You can… make portals?" She'd rather step from the top of Teldrassil than force herself threw a warlock portal, but the new situation of her reality said she would die all right-but not stay dead. It certainly put a whole lot of things into perspective that were not even consideration just weeks ago.

What am I becoming? Forsaken? Am I not still a Druid of the Wild, a child of Cenarious? For a moment her brain clenched to remember things from her childhood that had driven her to the Druidic arts, things that happened when people forgot whom they were and made excuses to do things just because they now had the power to.

The Commander busted out laughing like it was the bawdiest joke he'd ever heard in his life, "Sean? Of Darrowshire? Make portals? That's the funniest thing I've ever heard! The man can barely keep that imp of his alive, if he could pull any real magic out of his fel-tained carcass he'd have done it to get you out of here a week ago!"

Serz was miffed, "I am quite skilled -! At. Things?" The sentence ended in a question mark, the Warlock allowing them to realize he was speaking about things he would rather not. The Forsaken man had his secrets and none of them were hidden in any shadow-warping tome. How he kept a living cat and was granted immunity by the Scarlets chief amongst his requests for silence.

Kayas suspected she was the only one he was unwilling to share his admissions with, and not for his own reasons either. If she ever saw the Priest again she was going to demand a lot of answers about this admittedly terrible warlock.

Mr. Meows' ears perked up, black eys looked in the direction of the front gate. While the Commander and Serz argued about his talents as a warlock and how useful he was not being at this time, for all his immunity to the Scarlet Commander's ire at having a Forsaken running lose in his compound, Kayas followed Mr. Meows towards the gate that lead into the compound.

Something was coming. She felt the taint a long ways off, thrilled inside to be able to feel it even though the same taint twisted her own body, if not her soul.

Shifting into Dishu form she kept pace with the big kitty till they got near the gate leading into the other sections of the fortress. Though the fire covered a good third of the Scarlet holding it had not yet gotten to the front gate. There the panther waited, ears perked and staring into the brightness but unwilling to advance into unsecured sections. Seemed the feline had a sense that all was not well. Just to their left were bodies in the mud and in the air hung the smell of rot, blood and acid magic.

The great feline called out once, twice before he was answered. From nowhere came the Banshee Queen astride her undead warhorse, eyes being seen long before her form appeared out of the smoke. A cape that would have billowed as the horse thundered towards them was pinned down. Someone rode with the Dark lady, white arms wrapped around that narrow waist, holding the cloak around its wearer

"Back!" The Dark Lady pointed one finger at the armor clad cat and rode past. Mr. Meows warbled in happy agreement and followed at full trot. Kayas wondered if the cat weighed more then the horse, the former being more than just bone and patches of rain rotted skin. It was an odd though to have as she watched the blue, silver and black shape roll after the Dark Lady

The rest of the company was none-to-happy to see the return of the Banshee Queen. Indeed they had though she was gone back to her city to hide from the Scourge. Those white arms disentangled themselves from her hips to let the Dark Lady swing down from the saddle. Glowing eyes blinked in and out of view as she drew the passenger down after her.

The Commander crossed his arms and glared, replaced the helmet that had been hanging from his belt and waited to see what was going on. Serz stood next to him and waited as well. Nekov strode over to his Queen and nelt quickly, pointed out the Druid and gave her a quick run down of the situation. She bade him get to his feet and snapped something sharp at him for getting hurt. He leveled a look at her and tilted his head as if to say, "Told you so." There was too much warmth behind his eyes, like a boy who didn't know he was in like with a woman and took liberties to see what she'd put up with to have him near.

He ignored the pale skinned stranger, supposing her to be another Forsaken until she put a finger on his arm and golden Light glowed. The healing spell finished what the Druid's only paltry healing had started; the Druid kept her surprised to herself. The Dark Lady had left and gone to get a living human? And form where? And why? The compound had enough priests, what was one more going to do?

Silver hair fell just past the shoulders and belonged to a woman much, much older than the seemingly middle aged human. She wore nary a stitch but for the tabard of the Scarlet Campaign fastened about her hips for the sake of what modesty it provided. Mr. Meows hung back, second guessing going near this woman, her stood bare feet sinking into the mud as she stood, head swiveling to gathering the visual of their situation.

"Now, my dearest priestess," The Banshee Queen stressed the word as if it were significant, "my part of the bargain is fulfilled. Get to work on yours. We have no time to waste." Exactly what their contract had been was never elaborated upon as the silver-haired priestess tilted her head back to gaze up the sheer cliff-like walls surrounding them all. The shapely head tilted to the side and she seemed to grasp the idea of what was expected of her.

Kayas followed the black cat's wariness. He was attempting to get closer for a good sniff, but every little move she made had him jumping back even further. At this rate he would back himself out of the compound before he got his identifying whiff. The Scout may not own the cat but was certainly tuned into him the way most of his kind was like to do with animal companions. He called Mr. Meows over to him and attempted to distract him by checking his armor. His own armor was nigh impractical to fight in and it seemed he would be doing just that soon enough.

They all would.

Kayas herself had no bad feelings from the woman herself and could not, aside from her obvious Scarlet affiliation and priesthood status figure out what had the cat in a tiff. Then she turned to look at the Druid. Kayas ears when back and she tensed as those red eyes landed on her. The woman's skin was pale, giving her a very washed out appearance. Maybe that is why the red markings under her vivid red eyes stood out. Something about her was… wrong. Mr. Meows had been able to sense it but the Druid had needed to see it to understand. The priestess wasn't entirely sane if that particular look was anything to judge by.

Her voice was soft though, "All of this for you then?" There was no condemnation in the tone, not rebuking or judgment… but there should have been. There should have been anger and sorrow and accusations, a whole host of reactions to something outside of the Druid's own little world. Those red eyes stared strait into her, seeming to find their way into her memories and read what was on the surface. For a moment they were linked and then she left the Druid's mind. "What a light you cast for such a tiny little spark in the night."

The Druid was about to shift and ask her what 'all this' was exactly when from over the walls a huge bat creature got impatient with the gate and decided to charge in alone. Who needs ground troops? It shot downward threw the rain and smoke headed strait for the pale skinned priestess. That elegant head tilted a little to the side as she watched the creature speed toward her. A chorus of civilians screamed as the Commander ordering his ranged underlings to open fire. By the time they were finished getting ready the creature was already to them.

The mouth gaped open a good two feet with six-inch fangs aimed to strike. Green plague-tainted eyes fixated on the narrow woman. Though it had no arms and only scraggly patches of fur, the clawed feet were impressive enough for the Druid to dive under the Banshee Queen's horse for cover. The dead animal had the grace to not care one iota about the Druid, civilians or the screaming horror from the sky.

"So impatient. You are weak. I shall cull you." The priestess whisper had a seductive edge; men would gladly jump to please if only she would open those sweet red lips again and speak once more.

Kayas did not expect one leg to shoot out to the side as the woman suddenly ducked into some kind of odd fighting stance. The beast was only feet away when she came up and collided with its rock hard belly, driving a shaft of golden light right threw its center like a lance. Though the Druid was close enough to feel the crackle of holy magic coming from the priestess she was sure the woman would be flung backward from the impact.

Instead the shield around her had stopped the gargoyle cold. It stared at her for a second, just inches away on the other side and supposed it wasn't dead from the first strike so it still had options. The silver-haired priestess traced fingers in the air and shot a lighting bolt of golden illumination at the things face. For one brief second the entire being lit up and was as quickly put out again as it crumbled to the mud in not so much gravel as a whisper of gray sand. The wind carried the dust over her bare legs and into the Druid's fur.

The world became quiet for a moment, even the smashing of the gate and the sizzle of magic and steel from other sections of the stronghold paled to silence for an instant. The priestess scanned the sky looking for another volunteer and seeing non, leveled her gaze to study the living members of the enclave.

They stared back

It was while the Commander was staring as if he'd seen a ghost that Kayas realize why she had such a drawback to seeing her; she very much reminded the little Druid of the images she saw of the warlock's soul. They had similar hair, narrow build and way of tilting her head when processing information. The dead version that became Corrosa did not tilt her head anymore, but she didn't weight much more than a leaf and her natural hair, judging by it's most frequent style of 'stuck my finger in the Priest's contraption', was white-blond where this priestess was silver-white.

"By the Light!" The Commander rushed forward at accepting the reality of the woman who stood before him, "Praise be! The Light has returned to us!" He knelt in the mud before her and took her hands in his, began to pray fervent prayers of thanks.

Serz edged towards the Banshee Queen, grinning fiercely at Nekov when his eyes couldn't stop traveling up and down the pale woman's lack of real covering. Yes, the Warlock must have been thinking, you can look all day but you will never see it all. The phrase 'legs that don't stop' suddenly became very, very clear to the gray-and-green feline who in turn was edging towards the scout and Mr. Meows.

The Warlock approached his Queen cautiously. "My Queen," he said by way of greeting and swept into a full bow, down and back up, "there are better options than this, if I guess your plan properly. That one isn't… stable. Lovely, but walking just right of the sanity line."

When it became apperant the Banshee Queen wasn't paying attention to him he turned slowly to see her glaring at Nekov, who was still trying to peel his eyes away from the Priestess. And failing. Striding over she took the cloak from her own back and settled it on the woman's shoulders. When the other made a show of removing the tattered garment the elfin woman hissed threw closed teeth, "They can see that you aren't infected, not a scratch or bite anywhere. Now cover up." One of the wicked daggers was out and cutting slits in the seams for the narrow hands to fit threw. The effect was a very long, shapeless dress that opened as she moved, revealing a peak of the red and white tabard, but otherwise covered her neck to deck.

The priestess met those red eyes with her own red eyes but did as she was told. Her own pale tresses were whiter than the white of the Dark Lady's, but tinged in gray where the tall elf's were edged platinum blonde. Running a hand under her hair she brought it out to settle on top of her new garment. The hood was left down, catching most of the white spill.

"As you wish," she replied softly and with a small curtsey. "I would tend the masses while there is still time, lest we lose the day and there is no one left to say the proper words." There was a lack of violence in her, which confused the Druid who knew full well how Scarlets acted towards the undead. This one was far less ready to strike the Forsaken Queen than the Commander.

The Dark Lady nodded. The priestess turned towards her adoring fans and stepped forward to be amongst them. She began passing out praise and prayers to all who could touch her. They whispered fanaticly at the sight of her, shuttered at the touch of her hand and fell down in tears should she touch them back in kind.

The Banshee Queen was close enough to Kayas for the green-streaked feline to hear her bringing Serz and Nekov up to date, "Dearest Jetadiah has vanished again, as he is like to do when annoyed at being moved around the board too often. Fortunately Corrosa is rather reliable about predicting this and providing replacements." That brilliant smile must have been beautiful in life. Now it was faded yellow, sharp and sinister. "Oh, but to have been a fly on that wall, seeing him arrive just in time to see Corrosa throwing her body threw the portal!"

You have seen him arrive a moment too late…

Kayas turned her attention back to said priestess. So she was from the Monastery? The Scarlets kept whispering about her hair for some reason. The Druid settled besides Mr. Meows and the scout to watch, three sets of eyes that did not abide this woman well. They watched. Silver was not a common color amongst the young of the human race Kayas knew, was it really worth pointing it out over and over again?

So her mane was white, big deal!