In spite of everything, getting time to write is still extremely difficult. Hopefully, once summer arrived in under a month I should be more than able to surge back into a consistent writing schedule and make up a ton of lost ground in backlog chapters! Whether that means a return to a more frequent posting scheme or not, I do not know as of yet, but there is starting to be a light at the end of the tunnel! Hold tight faithful readers! ~F

Chapter 171

The Observer

Jaina hurried as fast as she dared after the Forsaken assault group, moving through the last parts of the Forge of Souls, and out into the open quarry's of the Scourge under the shadow of the dreadful citadel itself.

The pressure of being so near to where Arthas dwelled was starting to press upon her, but she soldiered on, setting aside her feelings of fear and worry for the man that she had dearly cared about so long ago.

Focusing on the task before them, which was just reaching the citadel, Jaina started to look for their path forward, only to see with raw horror the laborers that the Scourge had collected for this quarry: a mixture of rotting husks and captured slaves.

"We should free the slaves," Sylvanas suggested, surprising Jaina. She had thought that the supposedly heartless Banshee Queen would not waste time with freeing those they found along the way.

"They'll be an excellent distraction for the Scourge to mask our approach," she added, red eyes glinting as she glanced at Jaina.

Of course there would be an ulterior motive, but it was enough for Jaina to leap down from their overlook and start shattering the chains of the nearest captive with ice magic.

The orc looked dumbfounded that someone had come for him, and more so that it was a human, but took up his mining tool and turned on his former captors as soon as he was freed, putting up quite the fight against the nearest skeletal warrior.

The Dark Rangers of the Forsaken spread out swiftly, also freeing captives with lock picks and even their bony fingers, soon mustering a sizable force of rebellious slaves to assault the guards and overseers as they pushed through the open quarry to the northern side.

They all hesitated there, however, once they came into sight of the hulking undead frost giant that hauled massive blocks of mined stone. "The Forgemaster will kill us all," one of the humans said to his fellow slaves, and Jaina knew that to make sure they could escape they had to bring this beast down. Stepping forward, even if the Banshee disagreed, Jaina knew she would fight.

"Tiny creatures under feet," the giant said, his speech slowed and wavering as he lumbered closer, "you bring Garfrost something good to eat!"

The creature released a blast of freezing wind, which Jaina countered instinctively, innately tapping into her specialty of frost magic. As the giant started to swing a massive ice axe down on her, she blinked, teleporting behind the giant to dodge. She spun, releasing several large chunks of ice into the lower legs of the towering undead creature, slowing it further so she had time to act before it reached her again.

She could see that the Dark Rangers, as well as Sylvanas herself, were laying down a supporting volley of arrows at the back of the giant, but they did little to even distract the hulking undead from pursuing Jaina around the small forge room.

Conjuring a quartet of elementals, Jaina sent them scattering around the platform, creating paths of frozen ice wherever they slid, and using their power to try and freeze limbs of the giant, to hamper him completely.

Frost seemed to be marginally effective from other sources on it, but Jaina was a Mage prodigy for a reason.

Binding arcane magic into her next volley of icicles, she watched as they exploded upon contact, tearing armor and frozen flesh across the torso and arms of the giant, opening places for future attacks to find more purchase.

Twice more she had to short range teleport to avoid the crushing attacks, and each time she made the giant pay for its determination dearly, before the massive ice axe was little more than a shattered club in its hand.

"Axe too weak…" the giant surmised, "Garfrost make better and CRUSH YOU." Abandoning his chase, the giant stumbled off to one of the corner forges, and dunking the haft of his weapon into the molten metal boiling inside.

Unwilling to give him the time he needed to make something new, Jaina start to channel frost magic around her. Large spike of ice erupted in a line from her to the Forgemaster, striking him heavily in the back and in both legs. The giant yelled out, but lifted his new weapon, and massive mace, and smashed the lice pinning him to the ground in one deft blow.

"Garfrost tired of puny mortals," he said, growing angry, "Now your bones will freeze!"

"Unlikely," Jaina said, barely feeling the chill of the giant's icy aura in comparison to frozen state of her own heart. Glacial spikes formed at her command, flying like hulking ballista bolts at the approaching giant. One was blocked by the swinging weapon, but two more struck the creature, and a third found one of the torn holds from earlier, staking itself through the flesh of the beast, and throwing it back a step from the force of it.

The giant fell back, and as it struggle to rise again, Jaina sought to end this contest. Conjuring a massive orb of pure ice, she sent it crashing down upon the undead's head, crushing it completely and ending the miserable existence that undeath had placed the giant into.

"The forgemaster is dead!" the captives cheered. "Ge the armaments, we have a Scorgelord to kill!"

Jaina was sure that the rest of this battle would not go as smoothly, spotting a flying undead drake spying on their movements. Their enemy was well aware of what they were up to it seemed. Hopefully, word did not reach the ears of Arthas before they had completed their mission.

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Bellatrix leapt into the air as the Dark Horde launched their attack on the being of pure starlight.

"Your actions are illogical," it said, trying to fend off the assault, but not as of yet committing to counterattacks, "All possible results for this encounter have been calculated. The Pantheon will receive the Observer's message regardless of the outcome."

Releasing a song of inspiration, Bellatrix watched as the Grand Warlock of the Stormreavers arranged his forces to block the Observer from the magical map of the planet. Perhaps if he physically couldn't perform his observation, the more time they would have to defeat him and prevent the undoing of all reality on this world.

Bellatrix didn't understand the entirety of it, but she knew enough to be convinced that this was not an acceptable outcome for their world.

"See your world through my eyes: A universe so vast as to be immeasurable – incomprehensible even to your greatest minds…" the Observer said, summoning glimmer of stars to surround the entire chamber; show casing the endless void that flowed between worlds.

Summoning glaives and other small weapons that the Valkyr had before Bellatrix had possessed her, the former witch hurled them down upon the star-like creature with purpose. She might draw his attention upward, away from their main forces, or else strike some weaker point from above if it chose to ignore her in favor of the others.

"The stars come to my aid!" the constellation being declared, and the glittering lights all around started to shower down on the ground forces, exploding where they landed. Large shields of anti-magic flared up around the Death Knights, as well as Fel barriers from the warlocks, weathering the storm of falling stars.

Nobu'tan glanced up, meeting Bellatrix's eyes, and his own wings exploded into reality, before he joined her in the air. Raising a scepter of power, the warlock tore open numerous little rifts of magic, showering the being with a storm of fire, Fel, and chaotic magic.

"You seemed to have had the best strategy out of us all, here," he said casually, maneuvering in tandem with Bellatrix as the two air born fighters strafed the towering light being, spells and weaponry splashing across it.

"Witness the fury of the cosmos!" the creature said sternly, even as one of the many stars started to overload, building power that was sure to wash over the entire area.

"To the ground," Nobu'tan ordered, diving for the circle of his forces. Bellatrix followed, feeling barriers and other defenses rising once more to endure as the far orb of light detonated with great force.

The energy washed over them all, knocking a fair few to the ground from the sheer force of it, but thanks to their magic none were greatly injured. They returned to the offensive, volleys of magic splashing off the being and beating him back to the very edge of the circular room.

"Behold the tools of creation!" the Observer declared, manifesting weapons of the same star-like make, and started returning attacks from their melee fighters, great slashes glancing off multiple Death Knights and other warriors at once.

Bellatrix was forced to give up aiding the attack and focus on leveraging her knowledge of shadow magic to keep those wounded from passing into the realms beyond, mending their wounds with as small of void curses as she could muster. If anything, it alleviated those who wielded the more healing oriented magic, so that they had less work overall even if they had to heal or remove the curses that the price-demanding void called for when healing wounds.

With this switched, the cosmic being started to gain ground, ever so slowly, but not nearly enough to overcome the advantage that the Dark Horde had attained with their surprise rally after the bombardment. The problem was, it seemed that nothing they threw at the being actually affected it, as though the Observer was merely humoring their fighting spirit, before growing bored and shattering them utterly.

The notion that that might be the case drove Bellatrix all the harder. She had lost her own world once, so she had learned from the records the Stormreavers had kept of the fate of Terra, and she would not allow another to fall by any means.

"ENOUGH!" the creature finally bellowed, knocking them all back with a surprising burst of power, before sinking to one knee of its own. The dwarf reappeared, dashing to Nobu'tan to mutter excitedly as the star-made being turned to look upon them all.

"I have seen worlds bathed in the Makers' flames, their denizens fading without so much as a whimper. Entire planetary systems born and razed in the time that it takes your mortal hearts to beat once… Yet all throughout, my own heart devoid of emotion… of empathy. I. Have. Felt. NOTHING."

Bellatrix squeezed the haft of her spear tightly, wondering if the creature was about to start up the fight once again, but if anything, the creature's strange features seemed to soften, the starts around its supposed eyes starting to glimmer. "A million-million lives wasted… Had they all held within them your tenacity? Had they all loved life as you do?"

The massive, translucent head shook, surprisingly human-like despite the artificial nature of the creature, "Perhaps it is your imperfections… that which grants you free will… that allows you to persevere against all cosmically calculated odds… You prevail where the Titan's own perfect creations have failed."

The creature rose, holding out a hand toward the image of their world, and the blinking lights of red faded away, leaving a green hue around the entirety of the planet, "I've rearranged the reply code," he stated, "your planet will be spared. I cannot be certain of my own calculations anymore."

Suddenly the towering being staggered, falling back to one knee. Bellatrix noted that they had indeed succeeded in injuring, and possibly killing, the powerful being of these Titans… curious that these seemingly perfect constructs could also be defeated.

"I lack the strength to transmit the signal. You must… hurry… find a place of power… close to the skies."

There was a small flash, and instantly the dwarf was holding a glowing disk of mysterious arcane power, unlike any artifact that Bellatrix had yet laid eyes upon in this world.

"I know just the place," the Dwarf replied, "Will you be all right?" he added, seeming to actually care for the construct that until moments ago was perfectly willing to annihilate all reality.

"Do not worry about my fate, Bronzen," the creature said, "If the signal is not transmitted in time, re-origination will proceed regardless. Save… your world…"

The creature seemed at last to lose all energy, and disappeared in a flash of starlight.

"It's finished, then," Nobu'tan said, turning to the dwarf.

"Aye," the explorer said, "I'll take this to Dalaran, I'm sure that Archmage Rhonin will know wha' ta do with it."

"Good," the warlock said, and Bellatrix could tell even from her distance that the warlock was not eager to return to the city of the mages for any reason. She personally had not had the privilege to go, yet, but she did have desire to see more of their new world, if there was some means for her to do so. Still, she was content to be at the side of her Lord, and fight his battles, if that was all that was required of her.

"We will return to the front, and aid in the destruction of the Lich King, now that this unfortunate detour is now concluded," the warlock added, and the dwarf nodded in agreement, gratefully stepping through a gateway that Nobu'tan provided for him.

"At last, we now face the master's of death in this world," Voldemort said, and Bellatrix grinned at the lingering trace of excitement that was in the dried voice. Her Master was ever as he once was, even if diluted because of undeath. The chance to face off against a foe that was so near to him in ability, yet unknown if their difference of power, excited him, and he likely wanted to rush headlong into battle against this King of the dead and slaughter his minions by the dozens.

If he did so, Bellatrix would happily rush in at his side, multiplying the death in their wake.

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Sirius was among the first to recognize when the flare of Fel energy sparked through the Dark Horde section of the Argent Crusade's Tournament grounds. He had had to learn quickly what was going on around this area between the bouts of the tournament, but with a bit of help from Highlord Fordring, he was able to get the gist of what he had been dropped in.

Therefore, the combination of the familiar signature of demonic magic, as well as the sudden flurry of activity among the third faction of Azeroth told him that at last, their leader Nobu'tan, his Harry, had returned.

Stepping to the edge of the grand coliseum in the wake of Tirion, Sirius watched as the entrance of the massive tent bearing the symbols of the Dark Horde was suddenly filled with warriors, weary but victorious as they moved throughout the area of their faction. Most of these were undead all their own, but from the sparks of power that they gave off Sirius could detect through the Light that they were no Scourge warriors, but free willed undead fighting alongside the living. He had already encountered members of the other Horde's Forsaken, and while they had been rather off-putting around him, Sirius could understand their plight and desire for vengeance against the Lich King that had brought about their creation.

These, however, held no commonalities with the Forsaken. These undead had willingly entered the pact, and gained great power through their deaths. Nevertheless, these were departing the campground, bound for the small area that the Dark Horde jealously guarded, where portals to the rest of their lands lay.

According to Tirion, the Dark Horde guarded their portal magic with great vigor, not even allowing other factions to see them in action or what lay beyond them, except on special invitation.

Sirius was broken out of his thoughts as the horned visage of a demonic-humanoid exited the tent next, flanked by pair of Death Knights. Muffling his intake of breath at the shock of what he saw, Sirius realized that this demon was his godson. He had gone so far into the Fel that it had warped his very being into one of the Legion.

"Lord Nobu'tan of the Dark Horde, an honor that you are able to make it to the Trial of the Grand Crusaders," Tirion said, stepping forward and clasping hands with the warlock of the Dark Horde.

"Highlord, it is good to be free of the madness that was hidden in the mountains to the northeast." Nobu'tan said cryptically, not offering more than that about his whereabouts up to this moment.

"Nothing that will hinder the assault on Icecrown I hope?" Tirion asked, and the warlock shook his horned head.

"No, it is all dealt with, so we are free to proceed as soon as you deem our forces ready." Nobu'tan said.

The other Horde's representatives, as well as those of the Alliance, arrived at that time to return to the coliseum for the final competition, and halted at the sight of Nobu'tan.

In Sirius' eyes, it was apparent that the King of Stormwind, as well as the Warchief of the Horde were both equally wary and collected about the presence of Nobu'tan in their midst, but the young advisor to Thrall was enraged at the demonic visage.

"Is this how you humans will betray us then?" he said angrily, seemingly unable to prevent himself from causing a scene with his outbursts, "Consorting with demons in this final hour, when all the might of the Horde is the most needed to break the lines of the Lich King!"

"Garrosh, enough," Thrall said sharply, trying to urge the other orc to move on ahead, but Nobu'tan had clearly heard, and turned to address the brazen warrior that accosted him.

"You are right," he said, stopping Hellscream from whatever vitriol he had prepared to counter some expected rebuke. "The TRUE Horde will destroy the Lich King. The Horde that was founded on your homeworld, orchestrated by my master, in order to preserve the welfare of all orc-kind, and give them the lives that they deserve…"

Garrosh bristled at the realization, and seemed as though he would try and start another brawl, but the demonic leader of the Dark Horde turned and departed, moving past Sirius into the wooden arena, and up to one of the overlooks, where cheering crowds of his faction called and waved at his arrival.

"Eloquent, yet more than willing to spurn anyone that stands in his way…" Tirion said, returning to Sirius as the other leaders started to make their way to their own overlooks.

"Just as his father was, so very long ago…" Sirius said, fondly remembering how easily James would sweet talk his way out of trouble, or verbally shatter anyone that dared to speak ill of his friends.

"So you knew him before," Tirion said, interested as they walked.

"I am named his godfather," Sirius said, feeling the weight of the shame he had carried for countless years, "and I failed him in the worst way imaginable. I wasn't there when he needed me most…"

"You and I both know that peace can be found through the Light," Tirion said, putting a comforting hand on Sirius' shoulder. "But closure can be a good step forward…"

"I will speak to him later," Sirius said, suddenly nervous at trying to encroach into Harry's domain, especially while the eyes of all the heads of state from across their world were on him. "In private…"

"That would be wise, I think," Tirion agreed, turning away to address the gathered heroes of the three factions that had assembled for this, the final and greatest challenge to determine who was worthy to enter the dreadful citadel of the Lich King.

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Sylvanas was already growing impatient at the lack of progress that they had made. Circling the massive quarry had to have eaten through most of the distraction that they had bought with the destruction of the Forge of Souls. At least the freed slaves would cause enough chaos to mask their approach to the secret entrance to the Halls of Reflection, but exactly where to get to that entrance she was not certain.

Their spy had only learned of its existence and the rough location, but dared not enter this place on his own, because the Scourgelord here was sharper than most of Arthas' lieutenants.

There was one that had sufficient knowledge presuming that they could reach him and make the plagued gnome talk.

Their target was near, surrounded by stitched constructs that were busy hauling crated ore away to be used in the refineries of Icecrown. They could have used stealth to attack and dispatch the other. Sylvanas just walked up, only attacking once the lumbering undead noticed her presence.

"Our work must not be interrupted!" the gnome bellowed, "Ick, take care of them!"

The largest of the laborer undead roared and charged, arms swinging wildly as it tried hopelessly to strike the Banshee Queen. Weaving around the tangle of overreaching swings, Sylvanas did not even bother with her bow, but drew a pair of close range daggers and began to carve lines across the stitched flesh of the construct.

The other constructs were quickly destroyed by the precise strikes of her dark rangers, and the poison that they tried to spew across the ground frozen and eliminated by Proudmoore. The gnome, astride the hulk that Sylvanas was dancing around, kept shouting conflicting orders, contributing to the confusion in their enemies.

"Enough moving around! Hold still while I blow them all up!" the gnome shouted, holding up a collection of explosives, which forced Sylvanas to actually consider this a threat. In a flash, she exchanged the weapons in her hands, and her arrows flew from her bow, striking the gnome directly and knocking him from the back of the laborer undead.

The beast started to reach for Sylvanas, before it was frozen solid in a flash of magic from the Sorceress.

"Wait! Stop! Don't kill me, please! I'll tell you everything!" the gnome plead, groveling on the ground.

"Why should the Banshee Queen spare your miserable life?" Sylvanas said, glowering down a the pitiful creature.

"Even I'm not so naïve as to believe your appeal for clemency, but we should at least listen…" Proudmoore agreed.

"What you both seek is in the master's lair, but you must destroy Tyrannus to gain entry. Now, within the Halls of Reflection you will find Frostmourne. It… it holds the truth!"

"Frostmourne?" Sylvanas said, genuinely taken aback. "The Lich King is never without his blade…"

"Impossible, the blade would never be left unguarded," Jaina agreed.

"If you're lying to me…" Sylvanas threatened, drawing back her bow.

"I swear it is true! Please, don't kill me!" the gnome pleaded.

A voice huffed from above, "Worthless gnat! Death is all that awaits you!"

Death magic swarmed down, engulfing the gnome and lifting it into the air, gurgling and grabbing at its throat. "Urg… no!" he squirmed pitifully before his neck snapped, and the gnome collapsed in a heap.

"Do not think that I shall permit either of you entry into my master's sanctum so easily. Pursue me if you dare."

"What a cruel end…" Proudmoore said, even now pitying the gnome his fate.

"A fitting end, for a traitor," Sylvanas countered, glancing back at the human, challenging her.

"We should at least see if the gnome's story is true. If we can separate Arthas from Frostmourne, we might have a strong chance at stopping him."

"Indeed," Sylvanas agreed, turning and gesturing for her rangers to lead the way. The direction that the Scourgelord had flown was as good a direction as any, even if it lead up a rise toward where a cave entered the mountain ridge before the fortress. A likely location for the secret entrance if there was one.

Unlike the love-stricken Jaina Proudmoore with her token idea of freeing her old flame from the icy chill of undeath and madness, however, Sylvanas started to hatch a strange scheme. Could she take up the blade herself.

To conquer her most hated foe and take control of the Scourge itself, she could relive her revenge a million times over, and destroy the entirety of the Scourge for all time…

Therefore, she led the way up the nearby rise that led to the cave entrance that the Scourgelord had flown toward.

Clearly, the way was trapped, and when undead vrykul surged out of the cave to meet them, as well as other undead ripping their way out of the frozen ground, was completely expected. "Your pursuit shall be in vain, fools, for the Lich King has placed an army of the undead at my command!" Tyrannus taunted, "Behold!"

Arrows flew from the Dark Rangers, tearing through the front ranks of the undead as they stormed down from the cave mouth. With Proudmoore supporting them from the rear with her frost magic, the Forsaken pushed upward, cleaving through the skeletal warriors and mages, reaching the cave and seeing the unending host that waited within.

"Persistant whelps!" snarled the flying Scourgelord atop his undead mount, "You will not reach the entrance of my lord's lair! Soldiers, destroy them!"

"Push onward!" Sylvanas commanded, sniping another undead in the exposed skull with her black-feathered arrow as she started forward again.

"Rimefang! Trap them within the tunnel! BURY THEM ALIVE!" the voice of their foe echoed as the cavern blocked them from seeing the death knight flying above. The cave rocked as the flying monster pelted it with its breath, causing frozen chunks of the stone roof to come crashing down. Luckily, far more damage was caused to the Scourge forces than their own, and the nimble undead elves were able to weave through the collapsing tunnel and the undead minions, making their way swiftly to the other side.

Proudmoore teleported the last leg of the distance, even as the frost wyrm carrying the Scourgelord appeared, circled around to cut off their advance through the next overlook. "Alas, brave, brave fools, your meddling has reached its end. Do you hear the clatter of bone and steel coming up the tunnel behind you? That is the sound of your impending demise."

But the Death Knight was proven wrong, as the host of released slaves appeared, weapons from the Scourge's forges in hand and determination in their eyes. "We will hold off the undead as long as we can. Deal with the Scourgelord!" their leaders shouted; orc and human standing shoulder to shoulder with the others freed from their imprisonment.

"Such an amusing gesture from the rabble," Tyrannus mocked, "When I have finished with you, my master's blade will feast upon your souls. Die…"

The undead host appeared, engaging the freed slaves, even as the Forsaken squared off to support them, leaving Sylvanas and Proudmoore alone to deal with the Scourgelord, and idly Sylvanas wondered if both of them were even needed.

"I shall not fail the Lich King! Come and meet your end, meddlers!" the Death Knight said, leaping down from undead drake and advancing alone on them both.

"Deal with the drake, this one is mine!" Sylvanas said, drawing her daggers and sprinting toward the Death Knight, even as the frostwyrm tried to flank them all, and strafe the slaves with its icy breath, only to be met by an froze wind from the sorceress' hand.

"Windrunner," the Death Knight said, grinning as he swung his runeblade, "I will look forward to presenting your head to the Lich King."

"That requires you to take it first!" Sylvanas snapped back, swiftly dodging around the wide swing, and stabbing at the armored warriors with her blades, "And you'll need to be faster than that to have a chance at it…"

"You will know of my overwhelming power!" the Scourgelord bellowed, infusing himself with more magic of undeath from the surrounding aura of the vile fortress.

His strikes started to accelerate, the two-handed runeblade quickly matching the speed of her twin daggers, but the undead Ranger General was always a step ahead, weaving around the blade and allowing the Death Knight to overbalance himself in his growing rage.

"Such a shameful display for one of the Lich King's 'Chosen'," she mocked, scoring countless strikes on her foe where his armor was weakest for movement. Knowing that she was dangerously close to playing with the fool, she moved swiftly, and went on the offensive, overwhelming the slower warrior with a barrage of lightning swift strikes, finally burying one of her blades into his back.

The weapons were coated with the same universal plague that Putriss had tried to use on the Lich King himself, and she knew it was a fatal blow. Tyrannus fell, trying to call to his mount before he passed, but that was impossible as well, as Proudmoore had overcome the natural power that the undead wyrm had over frost, and encased the entire small dragon in a block of ice.

The attacking Scourge forces retreated, leaving the remaining slaves to cheer for their victory. "Brave champions, we owe you our lives, our freedom…" the orcish leader of the Horde slaves said, even as the human approached Proudmoore, "Though it be a tiny gesture of this enormous debt, I pledge that from this day forth, all will know of these deeds…"

Sylvanas sighed inwardly. She did not want it known that she had taken to this place well before the final attack, and the blustering orc could spoil all of her plans with this nonsense.

But everything was put on hold the moment she heard the beating of massive wings from the direction of the overlook.

"Take cover!" Sylvanas shouted, even as the Sorceress of Theramore forcefully teleported as many as she could back to the mouth of the cave. A massive undead frost dragon rose up, bombarding the entire overlook with frost magic, slaughtering many of the freed slaves, aside from some mages that managed to encase themselves in protective ice in a flash. Otherwise, only those in the mouth of the cavern were spared to see the frozen wasteland that the dragon left behind.

"The Frost Queen is gone," Proudmoore said once the pounding of wings had subsided. "We must keep moving, our objective is near."

So it was. Sylvanas could sense the presence of the cursed blade that had claimed her life so long ago. Starting across the plateau to the sealed doors of iron that led toward the dreadful citadel, they only paused when Proudmoore hesitated at the frozen corpses of the slaves.

"I… I could not save them… Damn you Arthas! Damn you…" she said, frustrated.

Personally, Sylvanas was glad for the simple resolution of the problem she had seen with the orc blabbing about her whereabouts, but chose to say nothing in the Sorceress' presence.

So long as they reached the Halls, everything suffered along the way was worth it.

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Nobu'tan settled himself in the seat that seemed to have been reserved for his express use. Teg'Ramm took his usual place at his side, taking control of the safety of the Grand Warlock without even asking for permission.

Nobu'tan did not bother to question it, Teg'Ramm was beyond overprotective, and it was no use to prevent it. The champions of each faction marched into the arena from the outer sections to the roar of the crowd. Nobu'tan clapped politely, but spent much of the time sizing up the competition from other Kalimdor Horde and Alliance. They were adventurers, primarily, with a few recognizable soldiers and mages sprinkled here and there, but otherwise they were nothing terribly special.

Strong enough to face the might of the Scourge, perhaps, but not nearly enough to hold their own against his forces if it came to it.

"Welcome Champions," Highlord Fordring shouted, standing from his seat overlooking the central section of the coliseum, "You have heard the call of the Argent Crusade and you have boldly answered! It is here, in the Crusaders' Coliseum, that you will face your greatest challenges. Those of you who survive the rigors of the coliseum will join the Argent Crusade on its march into Icecrown Citadel."

The massive gate swung open, and a towering yeti-creature was led in by massive chains, where the three factions of champions squared off against the bellowing thing. "Hailing from the deepest, darkest caverns of the Storm Peaks, Gormok the Impaler! Battle on, heroes!" Tirion shouted, even as the chains were released and the creature charged forward into the midst of the assembly.

"You beasts will be no match for my champions, Tirion!" Varian shouted, giving his people courage.

"I've seen more worthy challenges in the Ring of Blood. You waste our time, paladin." The upstart, Hellscream, bellowed in reply, doing little to rouse his own fighters.

Nobu'tan chose to remain silent, but the youngest of the fans in the seats struck up their instruments, drums pounding rhythmically. One lone bagpipe player took charge of the melody, blaring over the din of the fighting for all to hear the wild music of the northern country of a world long ago burned out of existence.

The Chieftain of the Stormreaver Clan knew that Yaxley had taken special interest in these young warriors-in-training, turning them into the standard-bearers and timekeepers of the Dark Horde's army, bolstering a much needed sense of moral and courage that their army, and indeed all armies of Azeroth, sorely lacked.

Even the young orc that was the Nobu'tan's personal page, carrying the banner of their clan, stood like a pillar of stone on the opposite side of Nobu'tan fron Teg'Ramm, taking his status extremely seriously, and not even letting the pole of his clan's flag waver as the breeze took the cloth and tossed it gently in the wind.

Even as the creature madly dashed back and forth, trying to flatten whatever warrior dared to stand in its way, the ice-coated fur was harassed by spell and projectile alike, and Nobu'tan noticed the true goal that the paladin was working toward.

Rather than competing to see which faction would take the beasts head, the three forces were working in total harmony, leading the creature from pockets of injured or weary warriors right into those who were freshly healed and ready to receive it.

He smiled, and the sharp eye of Ramm caught it. "You've spotted Fordring's plan already I see," the Ogre Mage's more magically inclined head said, and Nobu'tan nodded.

"It is sound, with what we are to face in the coming battle. If we are not united, the Scourge will use that to its own advantage, and shatter whatever force is thrown at them."

Soon, the mighty creature was slain, and its body dragged from the arena to prepare for the next contest. "Steel yourselves, heroes, for the twin terrors, Acidmaw and Dreadscale, enter the arena!" Tirion said, as bone worms were ushered inside for them to fight next.

Nobu'tan could only assume that the structure had a solid foundation, to prevent the worms from merely escaping as they burrowed into the packed dirt floor of the arena, trying to devour the various warriors assembled against them from below.

Curiously, as he was watching the fight, it was hard for Nobu'tan to drive away the sensation that he himself was being watched. While that was something normal that he had long learned to put up with, being so strangely powerful in the Fel and physically imposing, this felt different.

Someone in the coliseum was watching him directly, for reasons other than because of his power or influence. The question was who, out of all the pairs of eyes that were there, could it be…